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iMi^^i^^amkm^ 


Pl'i'i!''T'.'nTi>i,ii|iiiiii|i)iii 


"THOU 
THAT  TEACHEST] 
ANOTHER       ::; 
ICHEST  THOU  NOT 


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^^H^S^ 

^^ 

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'kiifl^:<B!r^>)^'^i^ 


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REESE  LIBRARY 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 

Received  ^-Cy6~-  •  '^o9 

Accession  No.    V^  V  /  ^    •   (^^^-^^  No. 


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DAY    DREAMS. 


DAY   DREAMS 


OF    A    SCHOOLMASTER 


BY 


D'ARCY  W.   THOMPSON 


OvK  ovap,  akV  oveiap. 


BOSTON,  U.  S.  A. 
D.  C.  HEATH  &  CO.,  PUBLISHERS 

i8q8 


7  6'/  /  f 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

The  UrDER  Form  at  St.  Edward's,  and  the 

Theory  of  Elementary  Unintelligibility,  1 

The  Upper  Form  at  St.  Edward's,  and  its  Latin 

Verses, 16 

The  Hellenists, 28 

The  ol  TToXXol,  or  the  Crew  of  Ulysses,    .        .  36 

On  Climbing, 53 

From  Penna  to  Possum, 63 

From  Possum  to  Ph^drus, 75 

From  Ph^drus  to  Farewell,       ....  83 

Teeth  on  Edge,  and  Closed  Lips,        ...  96 

Place  aux  Dames, 109 

Solar  Specks,    ......        p       .  124 

Prolusiones  Homeric^  — 

Mort  d' Arthur, 148 

Ulysses, 150 

Edwin  of  Deira, 152 

Enallos  and  Cymodameia,       ....  154 

The  DpATH  of  Artemidora,   ....  156 


viii  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Back  to  Babel, 158 

Dissolving  Views,     .        .        .        .        .        .        .  190 

The  King  of  the  Alphabet,          ....  202 

Fallacies, 213 

Nursery  Reform, 229 

Dead  Languages, 242 

A  Vision, 247 

The  Schoolmaster's  Love -Letter,      .        .        .  251 

SUUM  CUIQUE 255 

The  Social  Position  of  Schoolmasters,     .        .  268 

Tint,  Tint,  Tint, 279 

The  Pressure  of  Gentleness,      ....  294 

Schola  in  Nubibus, 307 


UNIVERSITY 
L 

THE  UNDER  FORM  AT  ST.  EDWARD's,  AND  THE 
THEORY  OF  ELEMENTARY  UNINTELLIGIBILITY. 

This  day— October  10th,  1863— my  Jun- 
ior Class,  in  the  Schola  Nova  of  Dunedin, 
had  its  first  lesson  in  Greek ;  put  aside 
its  frock  and  linen  pants,  and  donned  its 
breeches,  intellectually.  No  transition-state 
is  agreeable  to  the  subject,  or  graceful  in 
the  eyes  of  a  looker-on.  These  little  fellows 
will  all  waddle,  duck-like,  for  a  considerable 
period  in  their  new  clothes :  some  will  never 
habituate  themselves  thereto ;  but  will  by 
and  by  discard  them,  and  return  to  the  frock 
and  linen  pants  ;  affording,  it  may  be,  a  pas- 
sing laugh  to  the  unpliilosophic  bystander, 
but  themselves  deriving  permanent  comfort 
and  unrestricted  swing  of  limb. 


2  THE   UNDER  FORM 

The  step  these  innocents  take  to-day  is^ 
of  course,  a  step  into  the  dark.  Will  the 
darkness,  into  which  they  so  confidingly 
plunge,  be  to  them  perpetual  and  Cimmer- 
ian? or,  will  it  duly  break  into  a  clear, 
bright  dawn  ?  Within  three  years,  the  ma- 
jority of  them  will  have  probably  passed 
from  within  these  walls.  What  an  opportu- 
nity is  meanwhile  afforded  of  wreaking  upou 
their  little  heads  summary  vengeance  for 
the  wrongs  done  me  by  a  past  generation ! 
of  doing  to  them  as  I  was  done  by !  Not 
only  should  I  thus  be  giving  vent  to  my 
indignation  for  past  ill-usage ;  but,  strange 
to  say,  I  should  actually  be  carrying  out 
the  wishes  of  the  parents  of  my  victims; 
for,  in  general,  those  parents  dread  new- 
fangled ways,  and  cling  piously  to  old  scho- 
lastic superstitions.  Well :  for  three  years, 
then,  let  me  lead  this  little  flock,  blind-fold- 
ed, by  curiously  sinuous  and  zigzag  ways ; 
so  that,  always  in  motion,  they  may  never 
progress ;  and  at  the  close  of  the  triennium, 
remove  the  bandage  from  their  eyes,  and 
show  them,  to  their  wonderment,  that  tliey 
are  standing  by  the  starting-post ;  that  tliey 


AT  ST.  EDWARD'S.  3 

have  been  dancing  their  Greek  hornpipe 
on  a  plate. 

This  first  lesson  has  turned  back  the  dial- 
hand  of  my  days,  and  for  a  passing  hour  I 
am  standing  in  the  dawn  of  my  own  most 
dreary,  weary  boyhood. 

I  was  not  quite  seven  and  a  half  years 
old,  when  my  dear  Mother  was  presented 
with  a  free  admission  for  myself,  her  eldest 
son,  to  the  Grammar  School  of  St.  Edward. 
The  offer  was  too  valuable  an  one  to  admit 
of  refusal.  1  was  accordingly  prepared  for 
admission  to  my  new  home,  by  having  my 
hair  somewhat  closely  shorn,  and  by  being 
clothed  in  a  long,  blue  gown,  not  of  itself 
ungraceful,  but  opening  in  front  so  as  to 
disclose  the  ridiculous  spectacle  of  knee- 
breeched,  yellow-stockinged  legs.  After 
some  laughter  at  my  disguise,  and  much 
weeping  at  my  banishment,  I  bade  good- 
bye to  my  dear  Mother.  We  little  thought 
at  the  time  that  school  was  to  be  my  home 
for  twelve  long  years. 

The  da  J"  after  my  entry  into  this  colossal 
institution,  a  Latin  grammar  was  placed 
into  my  hands.     It  was  a  bulky  book  of  its 


4  TUE   UNDER  FORM 

kind:  considering  the  diminutiveness  of 
the  new  student,  a  portentously  bulky 
book.  It  was  bulky  in  consequence  of  its 
comprehensiveness.  It  gave  all  imaginable 
rules,  and  all  imaginable  exceptions.  It 
had  providentially  stored  within  it  the  req- 
uisite gear  for  whatever  casualty  might  be- 
fall us.  The  syntax  rules,  in  the  edition 
presented  to  me,  were,  for  the  first  time, 
rendered  mercifully  in  English :  those  for 
gender  and  quantity  remained  in  the  old 
Latin ;  and  the  Latin  was  communicated  in 
a  hideously  discordant  rhythm.  Over  a 
space  of  years  we  went  systematically 
through  and  through  that  book ;  page  after 
page,  chapter  after  chapter.  It  was  all  un- 
intelligible ;  all  obscure ;  but  some  spots 
were  wrapt  in  more  than  ordinary  gloom. 
Our  chronic  bewilderment  was  varied  from 
time  to  time  by  shooting  pains,  brought  on 
by  some  passage  or  expression  unusually 
indigestible.  We  read  of  creatures,  happily 
few  in  number,  that  v/ent  about  in  the  Epi- 
coene  (render.  Were  they  fish,  flesh  or  fowl  ? 
Would  the  breed  be  ever  extinct  ?  Under 
certain  desperate  circumstances,  a  participle 


AT  ST.  EDWARD'S.  5 

and  a  noun  together  were  bound  hand  and 
foot,  and  put  into  the  Ablative  Absolute. 
What  had  they  done,  to  be  treated  in  a  man- 
ner thus  peremptory,  unreasonable,  crotch- 
ety? Did  they  ever  get  out  after  being 
once  put  in  ?  Then  there  were  gerunds  in 
Di^  Do^  and  Dum.  How  they  recalled  to  us 
that  old  Fee^  Fi^  Fo^  Fum^  and  the  smell  of 
English  blood !  And  supines  in  Um  and  U, 
What  was  the  meaning  of  these  cabalistic 
names?  I  did  not  know  then;  and  I  do 
not  know  now.  And  yet  I  have  been  be- 
hind the  scholastic  curtain  for  twelve  long 
years. 

There  was  no  entire  chapter  in  the  book 
more  broken  with  pitfalls  than  that,  com- 
posed in  doggrel,  which  treated  of  the  rules 
for  gender.  Not  one  word,  I  am  sure,  of  an 
exceptionable  kind  had  escaped  the  dia- 
bolic ken  of  the  compiler.  String  upon 
string  of  jangling,  unmusical  lines  could  we 
repeat  with  a  singular  rapidity;  under- 
standing nothing  ;  asking  no  questions.  Oh 
the  sweet,  simple  faith  of  childhood  !  We 
had  been  told  to  commit  those  lines  to  mem- 
ory, and  we  committed  them.    They  would, 


6  THE   UNDER  FORM 

doubtless,  do  us  good  in  the  latter  days. 
We  should,  at  all  events,  be  flogged  there 
and  then,  unless  we  sang  them  like  caged 
birds.  It  was  the  will  of  Allah:  Allah  was 
good. 

Many  of  the  words  in  that  puzzling  lit- 
urgy I  have  never  fallen  in  with  since, 
though  I  have  been  a  student  of  its  dialect 
for  twenty-seven  years.  Some  of  the  words 
I  have  since  discovered  to  be  grossly  in- 
decent in  their  naked  English  meaning. 
Well,  well:  they  might  have  all  been  so, 
without  doing  more  harm  to  our  morality, 
than  they  did  good  to  our  understandings. 
I  can  vividly  recollect  one  circumstance, 
that  broke  in  a  startling  manner  to  me  the 
dull  monotony  of  these  years.  It  was  a  hot 
and  sultry  afternoon.  My  wits  were  wan- 
dering :  I  suppose  in  green  fields.  So,  in 
class-time  when  my  turn  came  round,  my 
brain  was  a  tabula  rasa:  the  inscription 
was  clean  wiped  out,  that  had  been  care- 
fully written  there  but  half  an  hour  before. 
The  Master,  a  clergyman,  had  broken  his 
cane  upon  a  previous  delinquent ;  his  rid- 
ing-whip was  sent  for,  and  I  received  ten 


AT  ST.  EDWARD'S.  7 

lashes  on  my  two  hands.  I  was  then  under 
nine  years  of  age.  For  a  passing  bewilder- 
ment, I  was  treated  as  though  I  had  broken 
into  an  orchard.  Our  Master  was  shortly 
after,  if  I  mistake  not,  presented  to  a  vicar- 
age: he  was  in  appearance  almost  effemi- 
nately genteel;  in  dress,  scrupulously  neat; 
with  fingers  tapering  and  delicate  as  a 
lady's. 

The  round-shot  of  a  Latin  grammar  had 
been,  I  believe,  tied  to  our  legs,  to  prevent 
our  intellectually  straying.  However,  in 
course  of  time  we  became  habituated  to  the 
encumbrance,  and  ceased  to  feel  it  as  a  se- 
rious check  upon  our  movements.  The 
hour  at  length  arrived,  in  which  it  was  con- 
sidered wise  to  attach  another  round-shot 
to  our  other  legs.  This  was  done  accord- 
ingly in  the  shape  of  a  Greek  grammar, 
written  entirely  in  Latin.  This  extra  weight 
answered  the  purpose  effectually :  we  were 
all  brought  to  an  immediate  standstill. 

I  have  sometimes  thought,  in  a  charitable 
mood,  that  the  compiler  of  this  book  — 
Heaven  forgive  him !  to  word  it  mildly  — 
composed  it  originally  for  such  students  as 


8  THE   UNDER  FORM 

might  be  familiar  with  the  tongue  in  which 
it  was  written.  My  comrades  and  I  were 
not  in  that  condition.  We  had  to  grapple 
with  the  difficulties  of  one  unknown  tongue 
through  the  medium  of  another  tongue  al- 
most equally  unknown.  We  were,  in  fact, 
required  to  give  a  determinate  solution  to 
an  indeterminable  problem.  We  had  set 
us  the  equation  — 

and  were  called  upon  to  give  the  values  of 
X  and  y  in  terms  of  constants  to  be  manu- 
factured by  ourselves.  It  w^as  the  old,  old 
story.  Bricks  without  straw.  "Ye  are 
idle :  "  said  the  taskmasters.  So  they  took 
away  our  scanty  wisps;  but  diminished 
nought  of  the  tale  of  bricks  as  heretofore. 

I  have  heard  the  system  casuistically  de- 
fended by  men  who,  old  prejudices  apart, 
were  intelligent  and  sagacious.  "The  ab- 
stract rules  of  grammar,"  said  they,  "are  at 
first  above  the  comprehension  of  all  child- 
ren. Even  if  they  be  worded  in  the  mother- 
tongue,  it  will  be  long  before  their  true  and 
full  significance  is  apprehended.  If,  then, 
these  rules  be  communicated  in  a  strange 


AT  ST.  EDWARD'S.  Q 

language,  the  very  difficulty  surmounted  in 
committing  them  to  memory  will  imprint 
them  the  more  lastingly  on  their  under- 
standings." 

Now  it  would  occur  to  me  —  but  my  sim- 
plicity may  be  to  blame  —  that,  if  subjects, 
concrete  or  abstract,  be  beyond  a  boy's  com- 
prehension, the  less  he  has  to  do  with  them 
the  better.  We  never  ask  an  errand-boy  to 
carry  a  weight  we  know  he  cannot  lift. 
Might  not  the  communication  of  such  sub- 
jects be  deferred  to  a  period,  when,  by  a 
process  of  training,  a  boy's  intellect  were 
rendered  capable  of  grasping  them?  Or, 
again,  at  the  expense  of  a  little  time  and 
trouble,  might  not  the  majorit}^  of  gram- 
matical rules  be  so  simply  worded,  and  so 
familiarly  illustrated,  as  to  be  brought  home 
to  the  intelligence  of  boys  of  ordinary  ca- 
pacity? I  grant  the  difficulty,  if  we  persist 
in  using  unintelligible  terms,  as  Grerunds^ 
Supines^  Aorists^  and  the  like ;  and  rules 
that  would  be  awkwardly  enough  worded, 
even  if  they  were  correct  in  substance. 

But,  for  the  sake  of  argument,  let  us  ad- 
mit the  defence  put  forward  for  the  old  sys- 

^^ 

^  OF 

UNIVERSITY 
LCALIFORt^ 


10  THE   UNDER  FORM 

tern  of  Elementary  Unintelligibility.  Then, 
surely,  we  may  push  it  to  its  logical  issues. 
All  will  allow  morality  to  be  higher  than 
grammar.  It  is,  consequently,  a  more  im- 
portant task  to  imprint  upon  the  minds  of 
our  children  the  rules  of  the  former  than 
the  rules  of  the  latter.  But  what  will  serve 
to  imprint  indelibly  the  rules  of  one  science, 
will  serve  also  to  imprint  the  rules  of  an- 
other ;  supposing  that,  for  the  time,  it  be 
unnecessary  that  either  set  of  rules  be  un- 
derstood. Then  why  not  communicate  the 
Ten  Commandments  through  the  medium 
of  Chinese  ?  Or,  if  that  method  be  found 
insufficiently  irksome  and  tedious,  why  not 
improve  upon  the  method,  by  rendering  it 
physically  painful?  Might  we  not  incul- 
cate each  portion  of  the  Decalogue  with  the 
aid  of  a  pin,  and  imprint  it  upon  the  mem- 
ory of  childhood  by  associating  it  with 
pricks  upon  some  sensitive  portion  of  the 
frame?  In  this  simple  manner,  we  might 
literally  fasten  a  whole  system  of  ethics  and 
grammar  upon  the  bodies  as  well  as  the 
brains  of  our  little  ones.  The  system  might 
be  extended  to  our  university  course ;  and 


AT  ST.  EDWARD'S,  H 

a  petty  domestic  instrument  might  prove  a 
weapon  of  power  in  the  hands  of  an  ener- 
getic professor  of  chemistry,  logic,  or  meta- 
physics !  Our  academic  youtli  would  go  out 
into  the  world,  tattooed  with  the  records  of 
their  education.  A  man's  own  skin  —  and 
sometimes  even  that  would  be  of  the  old 
material  —  would  be  his  portable  diploma. 
In  two  generations,  not  a  gentleman  would 
sit  down  to  dinner  without  resting  securely 
upon  a  cluster  of  anchors,  binding  him  in- 
,  visibly  to  correctness  of  living,  reasoning, 
and  grammar. 

But  to  return  to  our  Greek  grammar 
written  in  Latin.  Day  after  day  our  cleri- 
cal Sphinx  propounded  the  mysterious 
enigma.  When  is  a  door  not  a  door  ?  was 
the  simple  conundrum  that  confounded  us. 
It  was  set  us  in  the  language  of  the  Cu- 
msean  Sibyl,  and  the  solution  was  to  be 
given  in  that  of  the  Pythian  Apollo.  Day 
after  day  a  victim  fell ; 

(xlel  dh  TivQocl  V6x{)0t)p  xaloi^TO  S^a/iieiai. 

When  I  escaped  from  Thebes,  no  CEdipus 
had  appeared.  I  wonder  if  the  Sphinx  is 
at  the  old  work  still. 


12  THE   UNDER  FORM 

For  five  years  —  and  five  years  make  a 
hole  in  one's  school-time,  not  to  say  in  one's 
life  —  for  five  dreary  years  the  process  went 
on.  We  committed  daily  to  memory  some 
page  or  half-page  of  the  sacred  but  unin- 
telligible book.  We  revised  it,  and  we 
re-revised  it  again  and  again.  To  lisp  its 
contents  seemed  as  natural  as  respiration. 
We  could  repeat  glibly  most  perplexing 
declensions  and  conjugations ;  contracts  of 
all  kinds ;  changes  Attic,  Ionic,  and  JEolic ; 
verbs  in  co  and  verbs  in  ai ;  rules  of  syntax, 
prosody,  and  construction,  which  no  one 
seemed  called  upon  to  understand  at  the 
time,  and  to  which,  in  their  Latin  form,  no 
one  was,  to  my  knowledge,  ever  referred 
afterwards. 

So  far  did  Greek  accommodate  itself  to 
ordinary  views,  that  we  occasionally  caught 
glimpses  of  such  familiar  friends  as  nouns^ 
and  verhs^  and  prepositions^  and  the  like. 
But  here  the  condescension  ceased.  Ever 
and  anon  came  looming  through  the  Latin 
fog  strange  forms,  gigantic,  spectral ;  Heter- 
oclites.  Paradigms,  Asynartetuses,  Syzy- 
gies;   Augments,   temporal    and    syllabic. 


AT  ST.  ED W AMD'S.  13 

The  former  seemed  to  embody  some  dim 
records  of  a  pre-Adamite  state ;  mystic  al- 
lusions to  bygone  Mammoths,  Behemoths, 
Ichthyosauri ;  under  the  latter  twain  seemed 
to  lurk  an  allegory  of  the  connexion  be- 
tween Church  and  State. 

It  is  a  grand  thing  to  be  conversant  with 
a  noble  language,  unknown  to  all  around  us, 
to  our  nearest  kin.  It  conveys  an  undefined 
idea  of  wealth  and  power.  We  travel  where 
they  cannot  travel.  We  visit  at  great  houses, 
and  leave  them  standing  at  the  door.  We 
stand  in  sunlight  on  the  hill-top,  while  they 
are  groping  in  the  valley.  We  wield  with 
ease  a  mighty  flail  of  thought,  Avhich  they 
cannot  uplift  with  both  hands.  Yes:  we 
may  reasonably  be  proud  of  the  capability 
of  speaking,  maybe  of  thinking  in  a  foreign 
tongue.  But  it  is  either  superlatively  sub- 
lime, or  superlatively  ridiculous,  to  speak  for 
years  a  language  unintelligible  to  one's-self. 

But  before  quitting  for  ever  the  old  Under 
Form,  let  me  say  that  my  quarrel  has  been 
with  a  system  and  not  with  persons.  The 
only  unfeeling  man,  under  whom  I  had  been 
placed,  was  the  genteel  clergyman  of  the 


14  THE   UNDER  FORM 

riding-whip.  My  other  Masters  were  good 
and  kindly  men,  who  went  according  to  or- 
der through  a  dull  routine,  believing  in  it 
most  probably,  and  quite  powerless  from 
their  position,  if  not  also  from  their  abili- 
ties, to  modify  it  to  any  material  extent. 
One  of  them,  before  passing  further,  I  must 
specially  recall.  He  was  the  only  classical 
Usher ;  the  only  classical  authority  not  in 
orders ;  a  tall,  gigantically  tall  and  muscular 
Scotchman,  of  thenaine  of  Ramsay.  He  was^ 
also^  the  only  classical  teacher  without  a  cane. 
He  used  a  strap ;  Scotice^  the  tawse.  Was 
it  because  he  was  only  an  usher  and  a  lay- 
man ?  or  was  it  a  kindly  record  of  his  own 
more  merciful  training  in  his  dear  native 
land?  Good  soul :  even  in  the  using  of  this 
innocuous  instrument,  he  kept  his  elbow  on 
the  desk,  to  spare  us  the  full  sweep  of  his 
tremendous  arm.  There  was  a  silly  legend 
current  among  us,  founded  only  on  his 
physical  strength,  that  the  cane  had  been 
denied  him,  after  his  having  once  cut  unin- 
tentionally through  a  boy's  hand,  —  an  idle 
myth,  that  wrapped  a  possibility  in  specious 
falsehood.     To  see  the  huge  torso  towering 


AT  ST.  EDWARD'S,  15 

above  the  comparatively  puny  desk,  it  was 
like  the  figure-head  of  a  man-of-war.  Why, 
with  a  cane  the  man  could  have  hewn  a 
beadle  to  the  chine,  and  with  a  birch  have 
minced  us  mannikins  to  collops.  I  wonder 
if  he  had  an  ancestor  at  Bannockburn: 
such  an  one,  I  could  imagine,  with  a  great 
two-handed  sword,  would  have  chopped  off 
English  heads  like  turnips.  I  have  an  in- 
distinct idea  of  there  having  been  something 
very  soft  and  tender  in  the  domestic  rela- 
tions of  that  biggest  and  best  of  ushers. 

But,  farewell !  good,  kindly  Usher !  and 
farewell!  good  gentlemen  of  the  Under 
Form  !  —  ye  deserved  a  better  fate  than  the 
fate  of  Sisyphus  -bolides. 


16  THE   UPPER  FORM 


IL 


THE   UPPER    FORM   AT    ST.    EDWARD's    AND    ITS 
LATIN   VERSES. 

The  upper  form  consisted  of  three  classes 
—  the  Hellenists,  or  House  of  Lords;  the 
Deputy-Hellenists,  or  House  of  Commons; 
and  the  Erasmus,  or  town-council,  or  parish 
vestry,  or  patricio  -  plebeio  -  non  -  descript. 
Those  who  attained  to  the  second  rank  gen- 
erally stayed  a  year  beyond  the  usual  term : 
four  were  chosen  annually  from  the  second 
rank  for  the  first;  and  these  favorites  of 
Fortune  remained  for  three  years  on  the 
Hellenist  class,  and  then  left  for  one  of  the 
Universities,  with  a  valuable  Exhibition. 

The  work  of  the  Erasmus  was  about  as  te- 
dious and  unrefreshing  as  the  old  drudgery 
of  the  Under  Form.  That  of  the  Deputies, 
to  which  but  very  few  attained,  became,  as 
regards  the  Classics,  a  very  little  less  tedious 
by  very  slow  degrees ;  but  was  wholesomely 


AT  ST.  EDWARD'S,  17 

vivified  by  tlie  introduction  of  mathemati- 
cal studies.  How  delicious,  I  remember, 
were  the  first  lessons  in  geometry  and  alge- 
bra !  they  were  as  draughts  of  spring- water 
to  lips  dry  with  heat  and  chapped  with  sand. 
Latin  versification  began  in  the  Erasmus, 
was  imperative  on  all,  and  was  continued 
through  the  senior  classes,  whether  a  pupil's 
bent  of  mind  were  for  language  or  science, 
for  verse  or  prose.  To  a  very  few  —  in  which 
minority,  perhaps,  I  was  myself  included — 
it  was  an  amusement,  and  would  have  been 
prosecuted  with  pleasure,  had  its  study  been 
optional.  We  members  of  the  minority  had 
each  our  special  beat;  our  Crusoe-island, 
where  we  reigned  unapproached  and  unap- 
proachable. One  would  write  hexameters, 
unirradiated  by  fancy,  unblemished  by  flaw 
of  rhythm  or  diction;  another  would  com- 
press epigrams,  not  devoid  of  wit,  within 
the  narrow  limits  of  the  elegiac  couplet; 
another  would  attempt  a  comic  flight,  with 
a  somewhat  square-toed  jocosity ;  another, 
with  the  false  taste  of  enthusiastic  youth, 
would  slight  the  severest  models  of  Latin 
verse,  and  spread  the  ideas  of  Keats  and 


18  THE   UPPER  FORM 

Shelley  over  quires  of  dropsical  hexameters 
and  flatulent  alcaics.  For  myself,  I  would 
push  on  patiently  through  the  brakes  of 
Statins  and  Silius  Italicus,  to  catch  one 
quaintly-dappled  epithet.  Many  a  peach- 
skinned  apple,  somewhat  flavorless  to  the 
taste,  would  I  steal  from  the  hot-houses  of 
Claudian.  I  had  a  stock  of  preludes,  similes, 
and  perorations  stored  away  in  the  pigeon- 
holes of  my  brain.  Unlike  the  simple  an- 
cients, my  forte  lay  in  landscape.  I  had 
an  extensive  assortment  of  sleeping  lakes 
that  mirrored  heaven,  the  emblems  of  quiet 
souls ;  of  winds,  that  rustled  over  peaceful 
seas;  of  suns  that  went  down  with  diffi- 
culty through  washes  of  superfluous  paint. 
One  sunset  I  have  by  me  still.  It  is  so  gor- 
geously out  of  all  simple  and  severe  taste, 
that,  could  I  forget  my  own  handiwork,  I 
should  attribute  it  to  the  pencil  of  a  Rus- 
kin.  As  the  prelude  to  an  ode  on  Lucretia^ 
it  gained  me  a  prize  in  books  at  school; 
as  the  prelude  to  an  ode  on  The  Moors  in 
Spain,  it  gained  me  a  gold  medal  at  Cam- 
bridge. I  could  with  ease  adapt  it,  if  re- 
quired, for  a  peroration  to  an  ode  on  the 
Exliihitio7i  of  all  Nations, 


AT  ST.  EDWARD'S.  19 

But  to  return  to  my  prose  comrades,  who 
formed  an  overwhelming  majority.  Latin 
versifying  was  to  them  a  bugbear  more 
appalling  than  any  yet  encountered.  How 
tough-grained  soever  might  be  their  idio- 
syncrasies of  intellect  —  and,  in  many  cases, 
the  grain  was  very  tough  indeed  —  the  wood 
was  tapped  for  the  regular  supply  of  sap. 
Great  importance  was  attached  to  the  sub- 
ject ;  and  still  is  at  all  great  English  schools. 
I  liave  not  the  remotest  idea  why.  When 
we  meet  with  a  very  odd  reading  in  a  Greek 
play,  we  presume  it  is  correct,  because  any 
copyirft  would  have  given  a  reading  more 
obvious  and  intelligible.  So  when  we  come 
upon  a  study  of  an  apparently  impracticable 
and  ludicrous  kind,  we  should  hesitate  be- 
fore we  condemn  it  utterly.  It  is  plain  that 
no  ordinary  brain  could  have  suggested  it. 
It  would  never  have  grown  up  of  itself.  If 
it  flourish  in  despite  of  common  sense,  there 
must  be  a  hidden  sense  that  feeds  its  roots 
with  moisture.  There  is,  doubtless,  some 
unseen  power  that  troubles  into  usefulness 
the  dull  water  of  As  in  prcesenti  ;  a  nymph 
that  rises  to   the   music  of  a  well-turned 


20  THE   UPPER  FORM 

hexameter,  and  re-dissolves  before  the  dis- 
cord of  a  false  quantity.  We  are  catholic 
in  our  views  of  education.  There  shall  be 
no  invidious  distinction  made  between  the 
poor  and  rich  in  brain.  All  our  boys  shall 
hammer  at  the  hexameter,  as  all  our  girls 
are  kept  strumming  at  the  piano.  Shall 
Rugby  be  denied  a  mystery,  that  is  allowed 
to  every  seminary  of  young  ladies  ?  If  the 
theory  of  Latin  versification  be  inexplica- 
ble to  woman,  what  male  intelligence  could 
solve  the  riddle  of  those  globes,  whose  use 
is  esoterically  taught  at  the  humblest  of 
our  boarding-schools  ? 

Our  apprenticeship  to  the  Latin  muses 
lasted  for  about  two  years.  Your  kitten  may 
reach  his  full  intellectual  powers  in  a  few 
months ;  but  it  takes  time  to  form  an  ele- 
phant or  a  poet.  I  subjoin  a  few  sets  of 
quasi-arranged  lines.  We  had  probably 
transferred  to  Latin  verse  some  thousands 
of  similar  sets,  before  we  spread  our  wings 
for  original  flights. 

The  Horse. 

The  fiery  steed,  his  tail  in  air  proudly  cockM, 

Not  without  much  neighing  traverses  glad  pastures. 


AT  ST.  EDWARD'S.  21 

Alexander  the  Great. 
To  thee,  O  Alexander  —  learn,  O  ye  kings,  being  ad- 
monished — 
Glory  having  been  attained,  Bacchus  was  a  sad  end. 


The  bee  from  various  flowers  sips  sweetest  honey  ; 
Speckled  as  to  little   body  and  yellow  as  to  double 

legs  : 
We,  too,  gather  honey  on  Parnassus,  a  boyish  crowd. 
Yellow  as  to  legs  and  cserulean  as  to  flowing  robe. 

When  duly  prepared  for  more  adventur- 
ous effort,  we  were  set  to  practise  upon  all 
the  heroes  and  sages  of  antiquity;  upon 
all  seasons ;  upon  diverse  accidents  of  fire 
and  flood ;  and  the  Gradus  was  our  Heli- 
con. Magnanimus  would  help  Phaethon 
on  his  hexametrical  ride :  Alexander  was 
practicable  with  a  preliminarj^  fortis :  Her- 
cules would  have  been  an  unmetrical  brute, 
but  for  his  alias  of  Amphitryoniades,  that 
pushed  out  like  a  promontory  half  way 
across  the  page. 

A  Latin  couplet  might  be  exchanged  for 
English  verse.  But  it  is  not  often  that 
we  took  advantage  of  the  permission.  The 
fact  is,  we  had  no  English  Gradus.  Our 
subject  one  day  was  Latro,  or  "The  Robber." 
I  composed  my  own  couplet  in  Latin,  and 


22  THE   UPPER  FORM 

furnished  a  friend  with  the  following  Eng- 
lish equivalent :  — 

The  wicked,  lurking  robber,  when 
The  harmless  traveller  passes  his  den ; 
He  seizes  him  by  the  tail  of  his  coat, 
And  robs  his  money  and  cuts  his  throat. 

I  remember  also  a  pair  of  verses  on  the 
subjects,  Patroclus  and  The  Last  Judgment^ 
given  in,  without  the  least  idea  of  joking, 
by  a  contemporary.     The  Urst  ran  :  — 

Let  us  mourn,   let  us  mourn,  let  us  mourn  for  our 

friend  ; 
Let  us  mourn  for  our  friend  and  protector  ; 
Let  us  mourn,  let  us  mourn,  for  Patroclus  is  dead  ; 
He  is  kill'd  by  the  man-slaying  Hector. 

And  the  second  :  — 

What  can  the  righteous  man  expect, 
But  to  go  up  to  heaven  erect  ? 
What  can  the  wicked  man  desire, 
But  to  go  down  to  hell-fire  ? 

These  latter  verses  were  not  achieved  by 
a  novice.  The  author  had  been  for  years 
a  nursling  of  the  Muses ;  and  his  English 
song  was  but  an  echo  of  the  music  of  his 
Latin  brother-minstrels.  Caw^  Caw^  was  all 
these  honest  rooks  could  say.  And  you 
might  have  whistled  till  you  were  black  in 
the  face  before  you  would  have  removed 


AT  ST,  EDWARD'S.  28 

the  black  out  of  their  rook-faces,  or  the  caw 
out  of  their  husky  throats. 

In  the  Hellenic  class  we  advanced  to 
ambitious  efforts,  epic  and  lyrical.  We  all 
sang ;  some  bass ;  some  tenor ;  some.  Heaven 
only  knows  how.  One  or  two  of  us  were 
very  prolific.  I  plead  guilty  to  having  been 
the  juvenile  parent  of  some  two  thousand 
Hexameters,  and  of  innumerable  Alcaics.  I 
shall  plead  extenuating  circumstances,  when 
I  am  brought  before  Rhadamanthus. 

Many  of  my  brother  Hellenists  have  no- 
thing to  fear  from  that  stern  judge.  They 
suffered  enough  for  their  misdoings  in  the 
actual  doing.  They  were  delivered  of  their 
poetry  with  throes  that  cannot  be  uttered. 
I  remember  the  case  of  one  Hellenist  in 
particular.  II  Stait  de  feu  pour  Valgebre^ 
mais  de  glace  pour  le  Latin.  In  the  three 
Upper  Forms  he  would  have  had  in  all  prob- 
ability six  or  seven  years  of  continuous  prac- 
tice in  versification.  This  would  not  be  whol- 
ly suspended  at  the  University.  In  his  final 
examination  for  honors,  he  translated  the 
first  line  of  Tennyson's  Beggar-maid  thus  : 

"Brachia  trans  pectus  posuit  mendica  puella." 


24  THE   UPPER  FORM 

Now,  Reader,  I  am  inclined  to  think  that, 
before  the  days  of  Lucretius,  there  were  very 
few  lines  of  Latin  verse  that  would  throw 
this  one  into  the  shade.  I  am  convinced 
that  Tully  never  wrote  a  hexameter  that 
could  compare  with  it.  I  suppose  there  are 
few  scholars  that  would  acknowledge  that 
there  is  an  obvious  natural  want  of  the  je 
ne  sais  quoi  requisite  for  versification,  indi- 
cated in  the  few  metrical  scraps  interspersed 
in  the  works  of  the  great  Consul.  And  yet 
this  man  was  one  of  the  greatest  masters  of 
his  own  language  that  Italy  ever  produced. 
Without  a  prose  literature  to  build  upon,  he 
has  left  enduring  works  of  state-oratory, 
legal  pleading,  literary  declamation,  discur- 
sive essays,  philosophical  treatises,  witty 
letters.  He  wielded  the  prose  of  his  native 
tongue,  as  Ovid  wielded  the  verse.  It  was 
put  a  quarter-staff  into  his  hands,  and  he  han- 
dled it  like  a  rapier.  However,  with  all  the 
versatility  of  his  genius,  and  his  almost  un- 
approachable dexterity  of  linguistic  manipu- 
lation, he  might  have  probably  gone  through 
all  the  exercises  of  Bland^  Arnold.,  and 
Company .,  without  ever  producing  a  single 


AT  ST.  EDW. 


original  line  with  the  requisite  poetic  ring. 
And  yet  an  English  classical  master,  in  a 
field  where  Cicero  failed,  will  endeavor, 
with  a  native  obstinacy,  to  achieve  success 
with  any  pupil  whatever,  be  he  imaginative 
or  matter-of-fact,  musical  or  timber-tuned; 
ay,  in  a  language  foreign  to  both  master 
and  pupil,  and  never  spoken  by  either. 
There  is  a  courage  in  the  effort,  which  de- 
serves success. 

He  may  achieve  certain  results,  I  ac- 
knowledge. A  pupil,  after  years  of  profitless 
toil,  may  acquire  the  mechanical  power  of 
wedging  together  geometric  blocks  of  deal 
into  the  form  of  a  hexameter.  But  the  time 
and  trouble  wasted  on  the  acquisition  of  this 
mechanical  dexterity,  might  have  carried 
him  over  a  broad  field  of  reading  in  the 
Classics,  or  a  wide  range  of  scientific  study, 
or  through  the  leading  authors  of  some  mod- 
ern literature.  Alas  !  my  English  brethren 
of  the  scholastic  cloth,  how  long  shall  we 
turn  rapidly  our  gerundstones,  in  the  vain 
endeavor  to  grind  sawdust  into  flour  ? 

In  regard  to  ancient  traditions,  scholastic 
or  political,  Oxford  is  usually  more  Conser- 


26  THE   UPPER  FORM 

vative  than  Cambridge.  It  is  not  to  the 
former  that  we  should  look  for  an  attack 
npon  Latin  Verses,  Port  Wine,  Trial  by 
Jury,  the  Bench  of  Bishops,  or  any  of  the 
traditional  institutions  of  our  country. 
However,  in  regard  to  the  tradition — I  may 
say,  superstition  —  of  Latin  versification, 
Oxford  is  in  advance  of  the  Sister-univer- 
sity ;  notwithstanding  that  she  has  records 
of  excellence,  in  this  particular  line,  supe- 
rior to  anything  that  Cambridge  can  show. 
For,  leaving  to  a  Merivale  the  pre-eminence 
in  translating  from  English  into  Latin  verse, 
we  might  search  the  prize-poems  of  Cam- 
bridge in  vain  to  discover  an  original  Latin 
poem  to  compare  with  the  Cursus  Glacialis 
in  the  Musce  Anglicanoe, 

At  Oxford,  then,  the  ancient  seat  of  the 
banished  Camoense,  a  copy  of  Latin  verses 
is  said  only  then  to  pay^  when  the  verses 
are  far  above  mediocrity.  At  Cambridge, 
a  graduation  of  marks  may  be  obtained  by 
verses  that  range  from  the  tnta  nreQoevTa 
of  a  Senior  Classic  to  the  deal-wedges  of 
the  Wooden  Spoon. 

What  a  number  of  uselessly-turning  ger- 


AT  ST.  EDWARD'S.  27 

undstones  might  be  arrested  in  mid-revolu- 
tion; what  an  amount  of  vainlj-tortured 
sawdust  might  be  set  free  for  the  stuffing  of 
dolls  or  pincushions,  if  it  were  only  under- 
stood that  no  amount  of  mere  mechanism 
in  versifying  could  obtain  a  mark  at  any  ex- 
amination in  either  University  !  Such  a  reg- 
ulation would  in  no  way  affect  those  few 
scholars  who  cannot  read  their  Greek  and 
Latin  poets  without  an  occasional,  and  not 
irreverent,  desire  to  imitate ;  but  it  would 
set  free  the  energies  of  their  prosier,  but  not 
less  intelligent .  brethren,  for  employment 
in  more  useful  and  congenial  studies. 

But,  Reader,  I  fear  I  am  jogging  on  un- 
consciously towards  Utopia.  Do  you  not 
see  that  such  a  regulation  would  imply,  on 
the  part  of  Public  Examiners  on  the  Cam, 
an  exquisite  appreciation  of  the  differen- 
tialities  of  Verse  and  Prose  ?  Ah !  Reader, 
it  were  an  easy  task  to  examine  our  Under- 
graduates, but  who  shall  examine  our  Ex- 
aminers ? 


28  THE  HELLENISTS. 


III. 

THE    HELLENISTS. 

I  HAVE  been  dubbed  Hellenist.  Nay, 
never  start,  Reader :  I  am  too  proud  to  be 
conceited.  There :  you  need  not  stand  un- 
covered. I  am  invested  with  the  Latin 
Order  of  the  Garter,  and  the  Greek  Order 
of  the  Golden  Fleece.  I  am  standing  on  a 
peak  in  Darien,  and  staring  at  anew  Pacific, 
broad  and  blue,  wherein  lie  happy  islands. 
I  have  reached  the  zenith  of  all  boyish  hopes ; 
surely,  henceforth  my  path  will  slope  down- 
wards to  the  grave.  I  am  self-poised,  self- 
centred.  All  pettiness  of  vanity  is  swallowed 
up  in  an  absorbing  contentment  and  pride. 
For  three  years  I  shall  pace  the  old,  shadowy 
cloisters;  then  for  as  many  years  shall  I 
walk  the  garden  of  Academus;  and  then 
pass  into  the  great  world  by  one  of  two 
roads;  and  at  the  end  of  one  road  I  can 


THE  HELLENISTS.  29 

dimly  see  men  with  gray  wigs  and  silk 
gowns ;  and  at  the  end  of  the  other,  a  cir- 
cle of  reverend  Elders  with  white  lawn 
sleeves.  O  Phaeton,  Phaeton,  your  head 
is  turning  giddy  ! 

To  descend,  then,  from  my  dizzy  flight. 
I  am  in  the  middle  of  my  seventeenth  year. 
I  have  had  nine  years  of  classical  drilling , 
All  that  I  have  as  yet  learnt  might  very 
easily,  indeed,  have  been  acquired,  had  I 
commenced  in  my  thirteenth  instead  of  in 
my  eighth  year,  and  had  the  system  of  in- 
struction been  natural  and  easy  instead  of 
being  unnatural  and  difficult.  This  I  state 
unhesitatingly,  after  having  twice  carried  a 
class  through  the  whole  of  a  school  curri- 
culum of  seven  years. 

Had  it  been  my  lot  now  to  leave  school,  I 
should  have  carried  away  a  rather  pleasant 
remembrance  of  my  first  usher,  and  an  affec- 
tionate remembrance  of  but  one  Master, 
Delille.  It  was  only  in  the  Hellenist  class 
that  I  came  to  love  and  venerate  Rice,  to 
love  and  admire  Webster.  Speaking  from 
the  light  of  subsequent  experience,  I  believe 
uo  school  in  the  world  ever  had,  or  ever 


30  THE  HELLENISTS, 

will  have,  a  trio  of  masters  to  surpass  the 
trio  I  here  mention.  Let  me  pause  for  a 
moment,  to  portray  them  in  few  but  loving 
words. 

Delille,  our  master  of  French,  was  a  tall 
and  powerfully-built  man,  with  a  fresh  and 
ruddy  complexion,  and  a  manly  carriage. 
His  temper  was  imperturbably  good :  his 
sense  of  humor  infectious.  He  had  no  vul- 
gar instrument  of  punishment ;  but  by  his 
noble  presence,  and  the  unseen  force  of  his 
character,  he  could  maintain  the  strictest 
order  in  classes  numbering  above  a  hundred 
pupils.  He  spoke  our  language  without  a 
flaw  of  accent ;  it  was  only  by  an  occasional 
hyper-correctness  of  hither  for  here  that  one 
could  detect  the  foreigner.  His  classes  were 
held  out  of  the  usual  school-hours,  some- 
times even  on  half-holidays ;  and  for  all  that, 
they  were  the  pleasantest  classes  in  the 
under  school.  His  severest  mode  of  punish- 
mg  was  to  set  a  fable  of  La  Fontaine  to  be 
committed  to  memory.  You  were  not  re- 
leased until  it  had  been  repeated  without  one 
single  break ;  and  you  generally  left  him, 
exasperated  a  little  at  the  loss  of  play,  but 


THE  HELLENISTS.  31 

laughing  perforce  at  some  grave  piece  of 
badinage  with  which  he  had  dismissed  you. 
I  knew  him  afterwards  as  a  friend,  and 
guest,  and  host.  And  what  a  companion  he 
was  at  table  or  over  a  cigar  !  He  was,  like 
his  compatriots,  a  hon-vivant ;  and  as  good  a 
judge  of  wine  as  any  member  of  a  London 
club.  He  had  a  splendid  voice  for  decla- 
mation or  singing  ;  was  an  admirable  after- 
dinner  speaker  in  either  French  or  English  ; 
could  sing  a  song  of  Lover's  with  a  rich  Irish 
brogue ;  a  song  of  Burns'  with  all  the  sub- 
tlety of  its  pure,  sweet  accent ;  and  roll  out 
a  sea-song  of  Dibdin's  like  a  sailor !  Had 
I  never  esteemed  him  as  a  master,  I  should 
have  liked  him  as  an  accomplished  man 
of  the  world  and  a  delightful  companion. 
With  a  number  of  University  friends,  I  once 
dined  with  him  at  his  house  in  Ely  Place.  I 
still  remember  the  four  kinds  of  Champagne 
that  were  broached  at  dinner ;  the  Cham- 
bertin  that  flowed  freely  afterwards  with 
the  flow  of  wit  and  good-humor ;  the  music 
in  the  drawing-room,  and  the  singing  from 
ballad,  opera,  and  oratorio ;  the  hour  at 
midnight  in   the   snug  library;  a  fuming 


32  THE  HELLENISTS, 

bowl  and  irreproachable  cigars ;  and  I  re- 
member, as  my  cab  drove  me  to  the  Tavi- 
stock, that  the  lamps  of  Holborn  showed 
through  the  window  like  mad  and  merry 
dancing  stars.  Alas !  I  am  writing  of  one 
whose  hand  I  shall  never  grasp  again,  for 
cordial  welcome  or  regretful  farewell. 

Of  Webster  I  cannot  speak  at  such  length ; 
and  happily  for  the  best  of  reasons :  he  is 
not,  like  his  two  colleagues,  a  memory  alone. 
But  I  shall  never  forget  how  contagious  was 
his  zeal  for  work  ;  how  impetuously  chival- 
rous was  his  character ;  how  thorough  his 
respect  for  industry;  how  unmistakable 
his  abhorrence  of  shuffling  and  sloth.  And 
I  remember  thinking,  at  times,  when  I 
looked  up  from  a  remarkably  white  hand 
on  the  desk  to  a  handsome  and  proud  and 
almost  haughty  face  before  me,  that  my 
clerical  Master  should  have  been  a  courtly 
Abbe,  and  have  set  in  hall  with  prince  and 
gentle  ladye. 

And  Blimey  —  dear  old  Burney,  as  we 
used  to  call  our  Head-master  —  how  feeble 
w^ould  be  any  words  to  describe  our  fond- 
ness for  that  dear,  white  head  !   The  Doctor 


THE  HELLENISTS.  33 

was  a  noble  type  of  the  old-fashioned  Eng- 
lish Head-master.  He  had  a  loathing  for 
all  scientific  study ;  was  utterly  ignorant  of 
modern  languages:  indeed,  I  believe,  he 
looked  upon  Delille  as  the  only  Frenchman 
that  had  ever  been  reclaimed  from  greasy 
cookery  and  sour  claret  to  a  repentant  but 
honest  appreciation  of  roast  beef  and  port 
wine.  English  literature  of  the  day  to  him 
was  non-existent;  his  lectures  smacked  of 
the  last  century,  with  their  long  undulating 
periods,  and  pauses  Ciceronian.  He  was 
the  fellow-student  rather  than  the  master 
of  his  Hellenists.  Patiently  would  he  pore 
over  their  exercises,  in  the  lighted  study 
that  sent  a  melancholy  gleam  into  the  long, 
dark  school-room.  All  information,  histori- 
cal, antiquarian,  geographical,  or  philo- 
sophic, as  connected  with  the  classics,  he 
regarded  with  contempt :  any  dunderhead, 
he  considered,  might  cram  that  at  his  lei- 
sure :  but  it  pained  him  to  the  quick  if  a 
senior  pupil  violated  the  Porsonian  pause, 
or  trifled  with  a  subjunctive.  "A  word  in 
your  ear.  Doctor,"  said  an  Oxford  examiner 
once  to  him ;  "your  Captain  yesterday  could 


34  THE  HELLENISTS. 

not  tell  me  where  Elis  was ! "  "I  looked  hor- 
rified," said  the  Doctor,  in  repeating  the  cir- 
cumstance; "I  looked  horrified,  of  course  ; 
but,  on  my  word,  I  did  not  know  it  myself. 
But,"  continued  he,  "these  Oxford  fellows 
like  this  kind  of  thing ;  but  I'll  wager  you'd 
get  few  of  them  to  write  a  good  Porson." 

Like  all  simple  and  unworldly  natures, 
he  was  generous  to  a  fault.  He  would  have 
given  anything,  forgiven  anything  to  a  good 
Greek  scholar.  The  boys  of  the  Under 
School  feared  him  as  a  strict  and  resolute 
and  severe  disciplinarian.  We,  his  Hellen- 
ists, knew  that,  while  he  followed,  unques- 
tioningly,  old  Draconian  laws,  his  heart  was 
of  the  kindest  and  softest  and  tenderest. 
How  the  old  man,  that  could  look  so  stern 
at  times,  would  weep,  when  an  old  pupil 
went  wrong  at  college ;  with  what  unre- 
proaching  kindness  he  would  help  him  out 
of  difficulties,  into  which  idleness  or  extrav- 
agance or  misfortune  might  have  plunged 
him.  How  like  a  father  he  would  welcome 
him,  when  all  errors  had  been  retrieved  by 
the  winning  of  an  honorable  place  in  the 
list  of  final  honors.    "You  must  remember, 


THE  HELLENISTS,  35 

Sir,  that  my  place  is  due  to  you  ;  that  but 
for  your  help  last  summer,  I  could  not  have 
returned  for  long-vacation  reading."  "  Non- 
sense," replied  the  Doctor ;  "  I  remember 
nothing  of  the  kind  ;  but  ril  remember  long 
enough  the  place  you  held  in  the  classical 
Tripos." 

And  he,  to  whom  he  thus  spoke,  and  I, 
who  am  now  writing,  and  all  who  had  the 
honor  of  belonging  to  the  class  of  his  Hel- 
lenists, Avill  remember  him  with  love  and 
gratitude  and  reverence  to  the  end ;  ay,  to 
the  end. 

And  now.  Reader,  why  should  I  give  a 
description  of  the  Hellenist  class  ?  With 
three  such  Masters,  and  a  set  of  comrades 
most  of  whom  were  enthusiastic  students, 
and  all  of  whom  were  pleasant  fellows,  how 
could  a  triennium  fail  to  be  an  industrious 
and  a  happy  one? — It  was  the  reign  of 
Antoninus  Pius  in  my  school-life,  and  needs 
no  chronicling. 


36  THE   CREW  OF  ULYSSES. 


IV. 

THE    Ol    noXXoi^    OR   THE    CREW   OF   ULYSSES. 

Yes,  Reader,  I  am  Hellenist.  I  am  at  the 
end  of  my  third  volume,  and  am  going  to 
live  happy  ever  afterwards.  I  have  reached 
Ithaca.  A  little  tired  and  battered.  But 
I  have  reached  Ithaca.  I  will  now  take 
mine  ease  by  my  own  hearth,  and  spin  long 
yarns  about  Scylla  and  Charybdis.  But 
where  are  my  old  comrades  ?  Poor  fellows ! 
they  are  all  drowned.  They  are  lying  at  the 
bottom  of  that  JEgean,  which  in  life  was 
the  scene  of  all  their  suffering,  and  the  re- 
servoir of  all  their  geography. 

The  fact  is,  it  was  only  in  exceptional 
cases,  that  boys  with  us  remained  at  school 
after  the  age  of  fifteen.  Consequently,  my 
old  friends  were  all  away.  They  had  gone 
for  the  most  part  into  commercial  life.  For- 
tunately, one-half  of  their  schooling  had 
been  devoted  to  the  despised  branches  of 


THE   CREW  OF  ULYSSES.  37 

penmanship,  ciphering,  reading,  and  writing 
from  dictation.  These  subjects  had  been 
very  well  taught.  Indeed,  had  they  been 
taught  ever  so  indifferently,  the  pupils 
could  scarcely  have  failed  to  pick  up  some- 
thing in  such  elementary  branches  during  a 
curriculum  of  at  least  seven  years.  Con- 
sequently, in  the  various  counting-houses 
into  which  they  were  draughted,  our  boys 
were  usually  found  good  penmen,  ready 
reckoners,  and  tolerably  correct  in  their 
spelling.  But  of  one  entire  half  of  their  long 
school  probation,  the  majority  carried  away 
no  intellectual  memento.  Upon  that  half 
had  been  brought  to  bear  the  most  expen- 
sive part  of  the  educational  machinery; 
masters  of  arts  instead  of  ushers ;  clergy- 
men instead  of  laymen ;  dictionaries  and 
lexicons  instead  of  copy  books  and  slates. 
There  had  been  no  lack  of  sowing ;  but  there 
had  been  no  reaping;  no  gathering  into 
barns :  although,  Heaven  knows!  the  ground 
had  been  well  harrowed,  and  the  seed  had 
been  watered  plentifully,  and  with  tears. 

I  must  state  in  passing,  that  there  was  a 
naval  school  into  which  boys  might  enter, 


38  THE   CREW  OF  ULYSSES, 

at  their  own  option,  about  the  age  of  twelve. 
Many,  that  had  no  special  calling  for  a  sail- 
or's life,  entered  it  with  the  mere  view  of 
escaping  a  life  of  Latin  and  Greek  drudg- 
ery on  dry  land.  This  part  of  the  school 
had  been  added  to  the  original  foundation 
by  Charles  II.  Every  year  a  little  deputation 
presents  at  Court  its  charts  and  drawings, 
in  accordance  with  the  expressed  wish  of 
the  royal  founder.  I  believe  in  no  portion  of 
the  kingdom  is  a  course  of  naval  instruction 
given  so  perfect  in  both  practice  and  theory. 
My  contemporaries  of  the  ordinary  Under 
Form,  who  survive,  will  be  now  in  the  prime 
of  manhood.  Do  they  ever  look  calmly  back 
upon  the  miraculous  fog,  that  overhung  one 
half  of  their  seven  years'  schooling  ?  Have 
they  ever  expiscated  one  intelligible  reason 
why  they  were  so  long  detained  in  the  bar- 
ren wilderness  ?  What  good  have  they  ever 
reaped  themselves  from  the  trial ;  or,  what 
gratification  can  it  have  afforded  to  others  ? 
Or,  seems  that  period  to  them  an  embryo- 
state ;  a  dream  within  a  dream?  Some  of 
them  will  now  be  Benedicks ;  some  will  have 
boys  growing  into  their  teens.    Our  species, 


THE   CREW  OF   ULYSSES,  39 

like  the  sheep,  is  prone  to  follow  a  lead.  I 
would  venture  to  affirm,  that  these  fathers 
will,  in  most  instances,  be  putting  their 
boys  through  some  similarly  mysterious 
educational  process. 

The  fact  is,  men  usually  look  back  upon 
their  school  days,  as  a  pedestrian  upon 
traversed,  far-off,  blue  hills.  He  forgets  the 
long,  desolate  moorlands  ;  the  tortuous  path- 
ways; the  morasses  here  and  the  shingles 
there;  the  peak  on  peak,  that  never  was 
the  highest.  They  forgive,  over  the  walnuts 
and  the  wine,  the  pedagogue  that  thrashed 
them  to  no  moral  or  mental  profit;  the 
bully,  that  appropriated  their  weekly  six- 
pence ;  the  old  house-keeper,  that  worried 
them  with  nig-nagging  for  their  torn  linen, 
or  for  faces  dirtier  than  their  dirty  shoes. 
School  was  not  such  a  bad  place  after  all. 
Another  glass  or  two  of  the  old,  tawny  par- 
ticular ;  and,  faith !  we  were  never  so  happy 
as  in  our  boyhood,  and  may  never  be  as 
happy  again.  Besides,  boys  are  terribly  in 
the  way  at  home;  and  school  is  the  real 
place  for  them  after  all ;  and,  depend  upon 
it,  if  there  were  no  vii'tue  in  birching,  caning, 


40  THE   CREW  OF  ULYSSES. 

Latin  verses  and  Greek  what-ye-may-eall- 
'ems,  they  would  not  have  held  their  ground 
so  long  amongst  a  practical  people  like  our- 
selves. So  Johnny  is  sent  to  the  Town 
Grammar  School,  and  returns  in  due  time 
with  as  much  honey  of  Hymettus  on  his 
legs,  as  his  father  before  him.  And  mean- 
while, the  great,  time-honored  Gerundstone 
turns,  and  will  turn  to  the  last  syllable  of 
recorded  time. 

In  the  majority  of  great  English  Public 
Schools,  the  primary  subjects  of  writing, 
ciphering,  reading  and  spelling,  are  noto- 
riously ill  taught.  The  chief  modern  lan- 
guages, French  and  German,  languish  in  the 
cold  shade  of  their  classic  rivals.  And  yet, 
elementarily,  they  are  taught  on  a  more 
rational  plan  than  the  Classics.  That  is  to 
say,  the  rules  of  nature  or  common  sense 
are  not  wholly  ignored ;  and  the  conversa- 
tional, vivd  voce  principle  is  to  some  extent 
kept  in  view.  But  success  in  these  depart- 
ments carries  with  it  no  acknowledged 
prestige ;  paves  the  way  to  no  brilliant  Uni- 
versity distinction.  Too  frequently,  also, 
a  master  of  French  is  a  master  of  French 


TEE  CREW  OF  ULYSSES.  41 

only,  with  no  more  claims  to  learning  than 
a  cTief'de-cuisine  ;  and  too  often  a  master  of 
German  will  mar  the  effect  of  his  erudition 
by  a  philosophic  but  frowsy  disregard  of 
toilet  proprieties.  And  alas!  a  foreigner, 
however  learned  and  well-mannered,  too 
often  fails  in  the  maintenance  of  discipline, 
from  the  fact- that  the  idea  of  order  is,  to  his 
pupils,  inseparably  connected  with  a  vigor- 
ous use  of  implements,  which  are  barbarous 
in  his  eyes  and  ridiculous  in  his  hands. 

However,  be  the  condition  of  other 
branches  what  you  please,  the  melancholy 
fact  stands,  that  the  Classics  are  taught  in 
such  a  way  as  to  benefit  only  those  who,  by 
superior  talents  or  inordinately  long  contin- 
uance at  school,  eventually  emerge  from 
the  darkness  overhanging  their  elementary 
training.  I  could  enumerate  three  histori- 
cal and  well-endowed  metropolitan  schools, 
to  which,  in  my  day,  even  this  latter  excep- 
tional statement  Avas  not  due. 

In  the  Under  School  at  St.  Edward's, 
we  certainly  understood  the  husbandry  of 
making  a  very  little  Greek  go  a  very  long 
way.  We  sank  our  teaching  plummet  many 


UNIVERSITY 


42  THE  CREW  OF   ULYSSES. 

fathoms  deep  in  the  abyss  of  Unintelligi- 
bility.  But  the  historical  trio  had  tumbled 
through  the  antipodes  to  the  nadir,  where 
they  were  sticking  like  rayless  stars.  There 
were  honey-prizes,  in  the  way  of  Exhibi- 
tions and  Scholarships  attached  to  these 
drone-hives :  they  must  have  been  assigned 
to  such  drones  as  were  found  pre-eminent 
in  weight  or  size  or  capacity  of  repose. 

At  the  best  of  the  great  Public  Schools, 
the  youngest  children — bless  the  innocents ! 
—  are  suckled  upon  grammar;  the  more 
advanced  are  too  often  fed  upon  dull  books, 
made  duller  by  superfluous  annotations ;  the 
manuals  for  prose  composition  are  in  many 
cases  tramways  to  pedantry  exhibiting  for 
imitation  the  unintentional  faults  of  Thucy- 
dides  and  the  intentional  faults  of  Tacitus ; 
the  manuals  for  Latin  versification  would 
seem  to  have  been  originally  intended  to 
implant  in  boys  a  quick  perception  of  the 
ludicrous.  A  vile  system  of  literal  transla- 
tion of  Greek  and  Latin  idioms  so  corrupts 
the  well  of  English  undefiled,  that  a  boy 
often  loses  as  much  English  in  his  Latin 
room,  as  he  will  pick  up  for  the  day  in  his 


THE  CREW  OF   ULYSSES.  43 

Eijglish  one. '  No  one,  after  once  the  senten- 
ces have  been  analyzed,  would  ever  dream 
of  translating  literally  Comment  vous  portez 
vous  ?  or,  Qu^est-ce  que  c^est  que  ga  ?  but  ped- 
antry will  insist  upon  boys  rendering,  year 
after  year,  Greek  particles  by  the  most  un- 
English  equivalents,  and  Latin  redundancies 
by  English  wind.  The  whole  system,  and 
the  elementary  part  most  of  all,  is  bookish, 
unpractical.  It  is  many  years  —  nay,  very 
often  it  does  not  happen  at  all,  —  it  is  many 
years,  at  all  events,  before  a  lad  suspects 
that  Latin  and  Greek  are  instruments  of 
thought  precisely  similar  to  his  own  every- 
day language.  In  the  earlier  years  of  his 
apprenticehood,  he  would  almost  scout  the 
idea  as  profane,  that  men  could  under  any 
circumstances  exchange  chit-chat ;  write 
love-letters ;  deliver  after-dinner  speeches  ; 
tell  Joe  Millers ;  make  bad  puns  in  such  sol- 
emn and  stiff-jointed  forms  of  speech.  In- 
deed., they  never  strike  him  as  forms  of  speech 
at  all.  He  may  entertain  a  hazy  idea  that 
Latin  was  employed  by  a  Roman  tradesman 
for  composing  an  Elegiac  valentine,  or  an 
advertisement  in  Alcaics.     Its  grammatical 


44  THE   CREW  OF  ULYSSES 

nomenclature  is  worded  differently  from 
that  of  any  modern  tongue ;  and  that  for 
Greek  is  worded  more  cabalistically  still. 
He  meets  with  no  Aorists  in  English ;  no 
Supines  in  French ;  no  Gerunds  in  German ; 
no  Paulo-post-futures  anywhere  in  the  Ijab- 
itable  world.  And  yet  I  will  venture  to 
say,  that  there  are  very  few  idioms  of  either 
Greek  or  Latin  that  have  not  their  analogues 
in  homely  Saxon  and  pure  French.  Indeed, 
I  am  almost  inclined  to  think  that  the  use 
of  av  in  Greek  is  the  only  idiom  to  which  it 
would  be  difficult  or  impossible  to  adduce  a 
parallel.  Why  on  earth,  then,  are  the  former 
pair  swathed  in  a  verbiage  so  peculiar  ?  I 
can  understand  the  use  of  a  peculiar  nomen- 
clature in  days  when  the  theory  of  language 
was  imperfectly  understood ;  and  I  freely 
acknowledge  the  debt  of  gratitude  due  to 
the  old  grammarians  for  raising  the  struc- 
ture before  us,  with  the  scanty  materials  at 
their  disposal.  Latin  was  then  considered  as 
radically  different  from  Greek,  as  Greek, 
from  Coptic.  Ay,  and  might  be  considered  so 
now,  for  all  the  teaching  in  our  schools.  The 
magnificent,    cloud-dispelling    discoveries 


THE  CREW  OF  ULYSSES.  45 

of  Bopp  and  the  Grimms,  so  full  of  interest 
if  gradually  and  clearly  expounded,  to 
young  and  old  alike,  are  in  most  class-rooms 
practically  ignored.  We  still  separate  by 
arbitrary  boundaries  studies  that  we  know, 
or  should  know,  to  be  cognate.  If  Latin, 
Greek,  and  Teutonic  are  really  sisters,  and 
French  a  daughter  of  one  of  them,  why 
should  it  be  thought  impossible  to  teach 
them  all  upon  some  catholic  plan  ?  At  the 
very  least,  the  grammatical  terms  employed 
in  one  school-room  might  be  employed  in 
another.  Take,  for  instance,  such  a  simple 
sentence  as,  I  sJiould  like  to  know.  If  a  boy 
were  called  upon  to  parse  such  a  sentence 
in  three  consecutive  class-rooms,  he  would 
find  a  Conditional  mood  in  the  French 
room,  a  Subjunctive  one  in  the  Latin,  and 
an  Optative  one  in  the  Greek.  Avery  Pro- 
teus of  a  mood;  now  a  bear;  now  crack- 
ling fire;  now  running  water,  that  slips 
through  one's  fingers. 

I  am  convinced  in  my  own  mind  that  it 
were  practicable  to  teach  English,  French, 
German,  Latin,  and  Greek  on  a  broad  and 
catholic  system.     The  first  step  would  be 


46  THE   CliEW  OF  ULYSSES, 

for  the  patrons  of  our  great  schools  to  re- 
quire of  every  candidate  for  a  classical  mas- 
tership satisfactory  proofs  of  a  thorough 
knowledge  of  French  or  German,  or  even  of 
both  languages,  in  grammar  and  accent.  If 
a  good  classical  scholar  were  found  deficient 
in  the  latter  particular,  he  might  be  advised 
to  travel  abroad,  to  cure  his  ear  and  his 
tongue  of  their  insular  vulgarity.  In  a  few 
years,  a  scholar  would  as  soon  think  of 
speaking  French  with  a  bad  accent  as  of 
eating  peas  with  a  knife.  A  class  might 
pass  from  language  to  language,  retaining 
its  shape  and  the  position  of  its  members  ; 
upon  the  principle  that  it  was  merely  passing 
from  one  to  another  phase  of  one  great  and 
comprehensive  subject.  Thus,  the  places  in 
a  class  of  English,  French,  or  German,  would 
be  thrown  in  with  those  of  Latin  and  Greek 
at  the  end  of  a  session,  to  determine  the  prizes 
for  proficiency  in  the  broad  and  catholic 
study  of  the  dialects  of  one  common  lan- 
guage. The  classics  would  benefit  by  the 
amalgamation,  as  they  would  have  to  be 
treated  less  mysteriously,  and  illustrated 
more   interestingly;    and  to   modern    Ian- 


THE   CREW  OF  ULYSSES  47 

guages  would  be  given  a  prestige  in  the  eyes 
of  the  pupils,  which  they  have  hitherto 
most  unquestionably  and  most  undeserv- 
edly lacked. 

To  some  the  amalgamation  proposed  may 
seem  one  of  incongruities.  It  is  not  so.  It 
is  much  more  incongruous  to  mix  the  study 
of  modern  history  with  the  study  of  Latin 
and  Greek,  than  to  associate  the  study  of 
one  language  with  that  of  another  cognate 
language,  in  the  determination  of  class 
places.  A  boy  may  have  a  special  turn  for 
history  and  the  acquisition  of  general  infor- 
mation, who  is  comparatively  slow  at  lin- 
guistic studies.  But  a  good  scholar  in 
Latin  and  Greek  will  be  a  good  scholar  in 
French  and  German  —  if  he  choose.  I  have 
known  lamentable  instances  of  good  classi- 
cal scholars  neglecting  purposely,  and  for 
sordid  reasons  connected  with  school  prizes, 
the  study  of  modern  languages ;  but  I  could 
also  point  to  separate  class-lists  where  the 
same  names,  almost  in  the  same  order  stood 
as  prizemen  in  four  languages,  ancient  and 
modern;  and  this  would  be  found  gener- 
ally the  case,  if  some  such  system  as  th^ 
one  suggested  were  adopted. 


48  THE   CREW  OF  ULYSSES, 

With  such  a  system  in  operation,  the 
pedantic  phraseology  of  our  classic  manuals 
would  have  to  be  modified,  of  course ;  the 
examples  to  the  majority  of  rules  to  be 
pitched  in  a  lower  and  more  natural  key. 
We  have,  at  present,  a  genteel  and  super- 
stitious dread  not  only  of  solecisms,  but  of 
commonness  in  expression ;  forgetting,  most 
unphilosophically,  that  the  vulgar  tongue 
is  in  all  cases  the  real  tongue ;  that  where 
we  can  hear  a  language  in  its  pure,  unadul- 
terated vulgarity,  —  and  any  one  but  a 
Bagman  knows  the  term  is  not  necessarily 
synonymous  with  coarseness  or  slang,  — 
there  have  we  in  Italy  a  correcter  language 
than  the  polished  diction  of  Ovid ;  and  in 
England  more  home-spun  stuff  that  can  be 
drawn  from  Pope  and  Gray.  Such  a  line, 
for  instance,  as  — 

Ciijus  ebiir  nitidum  fastif/ia  suinma  tegebat, 
might  be  justified  in  Ovid,  on  the  score  of 
difficulty  in  adapting  his  language  to  a  for- 
eign metre ;  but  the  collocation  of  the  words 
is  obviously  wrong  either  for  Latin  or  for 
any  language.     Again,  such  a  line  as  — 

Utendum  est  SBtate ;  cito  pede  prseterit  setas, 


THE   CREW  OF  ULYSSES.  49 

is  exquisitely  worded.  But  the  former  part 
of  the  line  is  only  right  according  to  the 
rules  of  fashionable  grammar,  or  that  of 
analogy  and  imitation,  and  wrong  according 
to  the  rules  of  real  grammar.  The  poet's 
valet  would  never  have  committed  the  blun- 
der ;  he  would  never  have  assigned  to  the 
active  utendum  the  government  of  the  reflec- 
tive uti.  He  would  no  more  have  thought 
of  attaching  an  abnormal  case  to  an  ordinary 
verb,  than  of  pinning  a  verb  to  his  tunic. 

In  our  servile  admiration  of  what  is 
falsely  called  purest  Latin,  our  hankering 
after  Augustan  elegancies,  we  lose  sight  of 
the  homely,  conversational  treasures  that 
might  be  extracted  copiously  from  Plautus, 
less  copiously  from  Terence,  and  to  some 
extent,  if  we  taught  Latin  as  we  ought  to 
teach  it,  from  our  own  brains.  If,  by  the 
adoption  of  a  vivd  voce  conversational 
method  in  elementary  classes,  a  pupil  once 
got  a  natural,  unconscious  grip  of  Latin, 
style  and  polish  would  follow  easily  enough, 
as  the  method  gradually  became  more 
searching,  critical,  and  analytic.  In  our 
own  language,  we  never  illustrate  early  les 


50  THE   CREW  OF  ULYSSES. 

sons  by  elaborately  poised  sentences  from 
Robertson  or  Gibbon ;  but  with  random 
speech;  familiar  instances;  common  saws. 
We  wait  patiently  until  the  pupil  gets  a 
tight  hold  of  his  subject,  before  we  call  upon 
him  to  wield  it  with  rhetorical  effect.  A 
round  single-stick  suffices  for  the  first  rude 
lessons  in  the  use  of  the  trenchant  broad- 
sword. So  in  the  illustration  of  the  rules 
of  Latin  Syntax,  I  would  advocate  the  use 
of  familiar  everyday  sentences,  such  as  a 
boy  might  carry  about  with  him  as  uncon- 
sciously as  he  does  his  jacket.  I  should  not 
be  afraid  to  employ  many  a  word  that  might 
be  searched  for  in  vain  in  the  pages  of  Cic- 
ero, or  even  in  the  dull  pages  of  a  diction- 
ary ;  to  let  pass  uncorrected  many  a  phrase 
that  would  send  a  shudder  through  an  Au- 
gustan precisian.  In  fact,  I  should  treat 
Latin  and  Greek  as  though  I  were  not  in 
the  least  afraid  of  them ;  as  though  there 
were  no  special  linguistic  secrets  wrapped 
within  their  mantles ;  as  though  they  were 
simple,  honest,  straight-forward  languages, 
like  the  one  spoken  without  conscious  ef- 
fort by  our  own  street  ragamuffins. 


THE   CREW  OF  ULYSSES.  51 

So  far,  however,  from  ignoring  the  value 
of  style  and  finish,  I  should  merely  be  de- 
ferring their  inculcation  until  I  could  in- 
culcate them  with  effect.  It  seems  labor 
thrown  away  to  demonstrate  that  this  is 
more  elegant  than  that^  when  tliis  and  that 
are  both  imperfectly  understood. 

Again :  at  present,  ere  a  boy  by  the  glim- 
mering light  of  a  misty  dictionary,  or  the 
reflected  light  of  his  solar  tutor,  can  grope 
through  the  involutions  of  an  ordinary  par- 
agraph, he  is  pushed  into  works  that  would 
probably  little  interest  him,  could  they  be 
perused  as  easily  as  his  own  Robinson 
Crusoe.  Cornelius  Nepos  and  Sallust  are 
two  special  bugbears.  Caesar  is  not  wholly 
blameless.  I  can  well  imagine  a  scholar- 
like soldier  or  historian  reading  the  latter 
with  pleasure  and  profit.  But,  apart  from 
the  difficulty  of  frequently-recurring  indi- 
rect speeches,  his  narrative,  with  all  its  sol- 
dierlike simplicity  and  directness,  is  too  ex- 
tended for  boys  who  can  only  read  it  in  de- 
tachments. We  ourselves  could  enjoy  no 
landscape,  however  beautiful,  that  we  saw 
only  in  separate  rounds  through  a  paper 


52  THE  CREW  OF  ULYSSES.       ' 

tube.  But  who  will  stand  bail  for  those 
other  notoriously  old  offenders?  What 
grown  man,  though  reeking  with  Latin, 
would  give  an  evening  hour  to  the  twaddle 
of  the  one,  or  the  pedantry  of  the  other  ? 
And  what  versatility  of  human  wit  could 
render  either  interesting  to  children  in 
miserable,  daily  "pittances  of  eight  lines  ? 
which  eight  lines  would  have  first  to  be  tor- 
tured into  villanous  English;  then  parsed, 
word  by  word ;  the  nouns  all  declined ;  the 
verbs  all  conjugated:  —  a  ruminative  pro- 
cess;—  then,  after  pausing  to  take  breath, 
we  should  begin  again  at  the  end,  and  re- 
verse the  order  of  proceeding;  running 
backwards  through  the  verbs,  and  back- 
wards through  the  nouns.  And  so  on,  ad 
nauseam.     0  dura  pueror*  ilia  ! 


ON  CLIMBING,  63 


ON    CLIMBING. 

Imagine  yourself,  Reader,  in  an  elemen- 
tary class-room,  and  before  you  a  semicircle 
of  some  fifty  little  recruits  upon  the  benches, 
with  their  brain-pans  newly  primed  with 
the  singular  oipenna,  "Make  ready !  — pre- 
sent ! !  —  fire  ! ! !  "  and  pop  go  the  fire-arms. 
But  what  a  scattered  volley !  Some,  it  is 
true,  discharge  their  six  rounds  with  pre- 
cision ;  but  some  are  firing  off  their  abla- 
tives half  a  minute  behind  their  comrades, 
and  some  poor  unfortunates  of  the  awkward 
squad  have  missed  fire  at  their  genitive 
shot. 

Follow  me  now.  Reader,  through  the 
scenes  of  our  ordinary  Latin  drama.  The 
subject-matter  of  the  play  is  a  somewhat 
confused  one :  if,  therefore,  in  the  descrip- 
tion I  indulge  in  a  Castlereagh-medley  of 


§4  ON  CLIMBING, 

metaphors,  the  fault  is  in  the  subject,  and 
not  in  myself. 

The  singular  of  penna  is  our  rehearsal 
for  to-day,  with  that  of  a  few  similar  nouns : 
the  plural  of  the  same  will  come  to-mor- 
row :  on  the  day  following  the  singular  and 
plural  in  combination.  Then  in  order  will 
come  dominus  and  suite;  then  puer  and 
ditto ;  then  liber  and  do. ;  and  so  on,  until 
we  pause  with  dies  and  res. 

Then  separately  and  in  order  will  stalk 
across  the  stage,  honus^  hona^  honum  ;  mitis^ 
mite  ;  felix;  with  their  three  legs,  and  two 
legs,  and  one  leg.  Then  come  their  invidious 
comparatives,  and  their  bombastic  superla- 
tives. Then  the  pronouns ;  then  an  active 
verb  of  the  first  conjugation,  as  amo  ;  then, 
actives  of  the  other  conjugations  in  order, 
as  moneo^  rego^  audio ;  then  the  verb  sum ; 
then  the  passives  in  due  order;  then  ad- 
verbs, numerals,  prepositions,  conjunctions. 

Now  I  shall  quit  the  stage,  and  set  you 
down  to  dinner,  at  our  piece  de  resistances 
Syntax.  Thin  separate  slices  are  taken  day 
by  day  without  vegetables,  bread,  or  salt ; 
they  will,  consequently,  remain  upon  the 


ON  CLIMBING,  65 

stomach;  will  cause,  certainly,  indigestion; 
will,  possibly,  leave  a  chronic  irritation  of 
the  mucous  membrane. 

Back,  Reader,  to  the  stage.  The  foot- 
lights are  dimmed,  and  the  actors  are  grop- 
ing their  way  through  the  defiles  of  Pi^opria 
quce  maribus^  and  As  in  prcesenti  — 

"Lasciate  ogni  spei'anza,  voi,  che  *ntrate." 

Thus  our  class  is  taken  through  the  pages 
and  chapters  of  its  grammar,  with  its  atten- 
tion riveted  exclusively  on  its  daily  lesson ; 
on  its  daily  square-yard  of  Latin.  It  is  a 
process  somewhat  analogous  to  that  of  tra- 
versing a  dictionary,  by  stages,  from  A  to 
Z.  Or  it  may  be  considered  as  a  process  of 
stratification,  applied  to  the  administering 
of  mental  food.  And  yet,  physically,  no 
man  would  ever  take  his  dinner  in  separate 
layers  of  beef  and  potatoes  and  bread ;  and 
no  elderly  gentleman  would  take  his  punch 
in  separate  instalments  of  rum  and  water 
and  sugar  and  lemon-peel.  Or  again,  it 
may  be  considered  as  a  process  of  bolting 
mental  food  in  lumps ;  which  process,  phy- 
sically, is  not  conducive  to  digestion. 


66  ON  CLIMBING, 

I  acknowledge  that  the  system,  wooden 
as  it  is,  produces,  or  fails  to  hinder,  some 
good  results  in  pupils  of  high  intelligence 
after  a  course  of  four  or  five  years'  teach- 
ing ;  because  intelligence  in  boyhood  will 
twist  through  obstacles  into  knowledge  as 
a  branch  does  into  sunlight ;  and  common 
sense  in  manhood  will  at  times  slip  off  the 
grooves  that  routine  may  have  laid  down. 
But,  with  an  easier  and  more  interesting 
method,  I  assert  that,  after  a  similar  period, 
the  more  intelligent  might  have  done  far 
more,  and  the  less  intelligent  a  great  deal ; 
whereas,  at  present,  the  more  intelligent  do 
very  little,  and  the  less  intelligent  next  to 
nothing. 

But  it  will  be  said,  that  there  is  no  regia 
via  to  knowledge ;  that  the  latter  is  found 
only  at  the  summit  of  the  Hill  of  Difficulty ; 
which  we  may  never  reach  by  walking  on 
a  level  road.  True :  but  there  are  more 
ways  than  one  of  ascending  a  hill ;  and  the 
one  which  seems  the  shortest,  is  often  found 
the  longest;  and  he  who  tries  it,  often 
meets  midway  with  some  insuperable  diffi- 
culty, and  is  forced  to  retrace  his  steps,  and 


recommence  the  ascent  by  an  easier  and 
less  fatiguing  route.  Instead  of  breasting 
a  steep  hill,  and  pushing  upwards  in  a  line, 
gazing  only  at  the  heath  or  shingles  at  my 
feet,  I  should  prefer  taking  long  circuitous 
bends,  to  lessen  the  angle  of  ascent ;  and, 
as  the  labor  would  thus  be  rendered  less 
exhaustive,  I  should  be  enabled  on  my  way 
to  enjoy  the  expanding  prospect ;  to  watch 
the  sailing  clouds  above,  and  the  valley  and 
the  lake  spread  underneath.  In  this  way 
I  have  climbed  Skiddaw  and  Benlomond 
without  over-fatiguing  myself:  I  tried  Ben- 
Rattachan  by  the  other  way,  unsuccess- 
fully; and  paid  dearly  for  the  attempt. 

So,  in  the  study  of  a  language,  I  acknowl- 
edge that  there  is  an  ascent  to  be  made ; 
but  I  hold  it  my  duty,  as  a  guide,  to  point 
out  to  the  pedestrians  under  my  charge 
such  a  pathway  as  may  present  the  angle 
of  least  inclination. 

In  the  declensions  and  conjugations — say, 
of  Latin  —  as  we  find  them,  there  is  so  much 
of  phonetic  corruption,  that  the  changes  of 
termination  may  be,  for  a  while  at  least,  re- 
garded as  arbitrary.     Had  we   them  pre- 


58  ON  CLIMBING. 

sented  to  us  in  their  primitive  form,  mem- 
ory would  be  little  needed  and  judgment 
would  do  almost  all  our  work.  As  it  is, 
memory  is  here  absolutely  required.  The 
declensions  and  conjugations,  then,  musthQ 
committed  to  memory;  at  first,  unreason- 
ingly ;  we  must  wait  awhile,  before  we  give 
the  solution  to  the  riddles  of  their  inflex- 
ions ;  some,  perhaps,  we  shall  have  to  leave 
unsolved.  The  rules  of  gender  also,  and 
the  commonly  recurring  exceptions,  must 
be  similarly  learned;  they  may  be  com- 
pressed within  a  page  and  a  half  of  an  ordi- 
nary octavo.  We  may,  reasonably,  take  it 
for  granted  that  a  young  student  of  Latin 
is  capable  of  analyzing  an  ordinary  sentence 
in  his  own  language :  that,  in  the  following 
sentences  — 

(1.)  This  is  my  father's  hat: 

(2.)  He  loved  his  brother  : 

(3.)  He  gave  me  nothing: 

(4.)  This  is  the  house  that  Jack  built: 

(5.)  There  is  no  saying: 

he  will  understand  that 

(1.)    My  is  in  the   possessive    case,  as 
agreeing  with  the  possessive  father^ s  ; 


ON  CLIMBING.  59 

That  (2.)  his  brother  is  an  accusative  or 
primary  object  after  loved  ; 

That  (3.)  nothing  is  accusative  after 
gave;  and  me^  dative  or  secondary  object ; 

That  (4.)  the  house  is  nominative  after  is^ 
a  verb  of  existence ;  and  that^  although  re- 
ferring to  a  nominative,  itself  an  accusative 
after  the  active-transitive  verb  built ; 

That  (5.)  saying^  although  spelt  as  a  par- 
ticiple, is  a  verbal  noun,  or  a  noun  coined 
out  of  a  verb,  and  in  reality  the  nominative 
to  zs,  and  only  put  after  it  for  convenience, 
in  consequence  of  the  intrusion  of  the  super- 
fluous and  anticipatory  word,  there. 

Unless  a  pupil  shall  know  thus  much, 
and  a  good  deal  more  of  the  grammar  of  his 
own  language,  it  would  seem  to  me  to  par- 
take of  the  nature  of  folly  or  cruelty  to  j)ush 
him  into  the  syntax  of  a  foreign  one. 

Taking  for  granted,  then,  such  prelimi- 
nary knowledge  in  our  novice,  the  difficul- 
ties of  Latin  syntax  are  wonderfully  les- 
sened. The  great  majority  of  its  rules  he 
is  already  acquainted  with :  they  are  com- 
mon to  that  syntax  of  simple  rules,  by 
which  he  should  daily  parse,  with  his  Latin 


60  ON  CLIMBING. 

Master^  his  paragraph  of  English,  He  will 
find  that  there  are  after  all  but  very  few 
rules  of  syntax  in  Latin,  which  might  not 
be  applied  to  his  own  tongue.  He  will, 
however,  see  that,  in  Latin,  an  adjective  is 
not  invariable  in  its  spelling  as  with  us; 
but  partakes  of  the  nature  of  the  mocking- 
bird, and  imitates,  musically  but  not  always 
usefully,  its  noun  in  gender,  number,  and 
case.  He  will  observe,  also,  that  with 
nouns,  Latin  expresses  many  things  —  such 
as  the  manner.,  how ;  the  means.,  by  which ; 
the  time.,  when  —  by  case-endings,  which 
things  English  usually  expresses  by  prepo- 
sitions; in  other  words,  that  Latin  uses 
tight  affixes^  where  we  prefer  loose  prefixes. 
But  he  will  see  that  English  also  has  its 
tight  aflSxes  in  such  words  s^s  father^ s,  him., 
them^  whom,  loves,  loveth,  loving,  loved.  So, 
even  in  this  respect,  he  will  see  that  there 
is  a  partial  agreement  between  modern  Eng- 
lish and  ancient  Latin,  which  at  first  seemed 
so  totally  different.  And  I  will  now  hint 
to  him,  and  by  and  by  will  prove  to  him, 
that  his  own  language  had  once  as  many 
tight  affixes  as  Latin,  but  dropt  them  by 


ON  CLIMBING,  61 

degrees ;  just  as  Latin  did,  as  it  merged  in- 
to what  is  now  called  Italian. 

It  will  very  probably,  then,  be  found  that 
such  Latin  syntax,  as  he  may  be  called  upon 
to  commit  to  memory,  may  be  compressed 
within  at  mo%t  two  pages.  The  rules  for 
prosody  should,  I  consider,  be  expunged  in 
toto  from  his  grammar.  All  that  is  neces- 
sary herein  may  be  communicated  orally  by 
a  Master  in  the  scansion  of  lines,  from  day 
to  day,  when  his  class  comes  to  read  Ovid, 
or  Virgil,  or  Horace.  Indeed,  the  analysis 
of  noun  and  verb  terminations,  carried  on 
from  day  to  day,  will  gradually  explain  upon 
reasonable  grounds  almost  all  abnormal 
quantities.  I  think  it  would  be  difficult  to 
bring  forward  in  Latin  half  a  dozen  long 
vowels^  final  or  otherwise,  which  could  not 
be  explained  on  the  principle  of  the  blend- 
ing of  vowels  or  the  softening  of  a  conso- 
nant. I  have  tried  this  oral  method  twice 
with  two  sets  of  upper  classes,  of  which  I 
had  the  divided,  though  subordinate,  charge, 
and  can  furnish  full  proofs  of  its  success. 

The  numerals  also  must  be  committed  to 
memory,  and  may  be  so  committed  in  at 


62  •    ON  CLIMBING, 

most  two  lessons.  To  learn  by  rote  long 
strings  of  prepositions  or  conjunctions  is  to 
my  mind  worse  than  useless.  They  should 
be  communicated  orally,  gradually;  like 
kindly  gifts,  stealthily.  Thus,  upon  exam- 
ination, we  find  that  all  that  requires  un- 
reasoning memory  may  be  reduced  to  the 
following  heads :  — 

(1.)  The  five  declensions,  which  include  all 
adjectives  and  participles : 

(2.)  The  rules  for  gender,  and  exceptions  : 

(3.)  The  four  conjugations,  active  and  passive, 
which  latter  voice  includes  sum  : 

(4.)  The  irregular  verbs,  eo,  volOj  nolo,  malo, 
possum : 

(5.)  Syntax ;  two  pages. 

All  this  might  easily  be  comprehended 
within  twenty-four  octavo  pages.  It  is 
only  a  hillock  of  difficulty.  But  instead  of 
climbing  right  up  the  face  of  it  —  for  the 
sides  may  be  very  steep,  though  the  summit 
be  within  rifle-range  —  I  should  guide  a 
pupil  by  the  sinuous  and  not  uninteresting 
path,  along  which  I  beg  of  you.  Reader,  to 
accompany  me  in  the  next  chapter. 


FROM  PENNA   TO  POSSUM,  63 


VI, 

FROM   PENNA   TO   POSSUM. 

I  SHALL  suppose  myself  to  have  a  class 
of  about  fifty  little  fellows  seated  before 
me,  impressed  with  the  solemnity  of  the  oc- 
casion, and  carrying  each  the  baton  of  a 
School-marshal  in  his  pocket.  I  shall  take 
it  for  granted  that  they  have  had  a  previous 
training  of  two  years  at  some  one  or  other 
of  the  excellent  preparatory  schools  of  our 
own  Dunedin ;  and  that  this  training  has 
been  wisely  confined  to  English  grammar, 
spelling,  reading,  and  elementary  arithme- 
tic; and  not  mischievously  extended  to 
Latin  rudiments  for  the  muddling  of  their 
as  yet  imperfect  ideas  of  English.  I  shall 
also  suppose  that  they  are  all  ten  years  of 
age,  with  a  margin  on  either  side. 

Under  these  circumstances  I  should  com- 
mence operations ;  and  it  would  be  my  ear- 
nest endeavor  from  this  first  lesson  to  the 


64  FROM  PENNA   TO  POSSUM. 

last  they  should  receive  from  me,  to  disrobe 
their  new  language  little  by  little  of  its 
mysterious  integuments,  and,  if  possible,  to 
prove  it  in  the  end  to  be  composed  of  the 
same  flesh  and  blood  and  bones  as  their 
own  Teuton  mother-tongue. 

For  a  week  or  so  I  should  content  my- 
self with  probing  their  knowledge  of  Eng- 
lish grammar;  and  from  time  to  time  I 
should  draw  their  attention  to  those  few 
inflexional  terminations  that  our  own  lan- 
guage has  still  retained;  as  in  Am,  them^ 
whom,,  dost,,  lovetli  or  loves  ;  and  I  should  im- 
press upon  them  that  it  was  in  such  words 
that  English  displayed  what  was  the  chief 
characteristic  of  Latin,  viz.,  the  use  of  tigJit 
affixes  instead  of  loose  'prefixes  ;  and  I  should 
repeatedly  inculcate  this  fact,  that  the  chief 
difference,  if  not  the  only  difference,  between 
the  two  languages,  was,  that  English  used 
loose  prefixes  very  often,,  and  tight  affixes  very 
seldom;  and  that  Latin  used  tight  affixes 
very  often,,  and  loose  prefixes  as  seldom  as 
possible.  And  I  would  illustrate  this  by 
the  present  tense  of  the  verb  to  love,,  and 
that  of  amare  :  — 


FROM  PENNA   TO  POSSUM.  65 


I  love,    . 

Amo^ 

Thou  lovest,   . 

Amas, 

He  lovetli  or  loves, 

Amat, 

We  love, 

Amamus, 

Ye  love, 

Amatis, 

They  love, 

Amant ; 

and  I  should  request  them  to  observe  that 
in  the  English  tense  there  were  four  iden- 
tical words  love;  but  that  in  the  Latin 
tense  all  the  words  were  different ;  and  I 
should  then  show  them  how  requisite  it  was 
for  us  in  English  to  use  our  pronouns  with 
our  verbs,  to  prevent  mistakes ;  but  that  it 
was  not  so  requisite  in  Latin,  as  the  persons 
in  both  numbers  were  all  spelt  differently. 
And  if  I  met  with  such  a  sentence  as, 
The  king  sent  him,  I  should  point  out  how 
independent  we  were  here  of  the  order  of 
our  words;  how,  without  ambiguity,  we 
might  say  — 

Him  the  king  sent ;  or 
The  king  him  sent ; 

because  that  the  spelling  of  him  plainly  in- 
dicated that,  in  sense,  even  if  not  i^i i^osition, 
it  was  to  follow  or  be  governed  by  the  verb 
sent. 


66  FROM  PENNA  TO  POSSUM. 

But  if  I  came  to  such  a  sentence  as,  The 
hoy  stuck  the  pig^  I  should  observe  that  here 
we  were  unable  to  alter  the  position  of  our 
words  without  imminent  danger  to  the  boy. 
And  I  should  show  them  how  much  more 
freely  in  such  a  sentence  we  might  have 
handled  the  pig,  if  he  had  retained  his  accu- 
sative in  addition  to  his  tail ;  how  we  might 
then  have  caught  hold  of  him  by  his  accu- 
sative, and  put  him  anywhere  in  the  above 
sentence,  without  his  being  able  to  do  harm 
to  the  boy ;  and  I  should  observe  that,  in 
Latin,  pigs  as  well  as  pronouns  had  accusa- 
tives ;  and  not  only  pigs,  but  nouns  of  all 
kinds,  masculine  and  feminine  —  for,  of 
course,  those  stupid  neuter  nouns  could 
hardly  expect  them  —  and  that  it  was  only 
in  modern  times  that  nouns,  indiscrimi- 
nately, had  been  treated  worse  than  terrier- 
puppies,  and  lopped  into  guinea-pigs  and 
Manx  cats. 

And  thus  for  a  week  or  so,  under  cover 
of  our  parallels  of  English  parsing,  should 
we  approach,  gradually  and  warily  the  Se- 
bastopol  of  our  Latin  Grammar.  And, 
meanwhile,  on  one  of  our  public  days,  some 


FROM  PENNA   TO  POSSUM,  67 

parents  of  my  pupils  would  pay  my  class  a 
visit ;  and  one  of  them,  perhaps,  returning 
home,  would  say  that  he  could  not  under- 
stand my  method :  which  would  very  prob- 
ably be  true :  and  that  he  should  remove 
his  boy  from  my  class  at  the  close  of  the 
current  quarter ;  which  he  would  very  prob- 
ably do ;  perhaps,  not  to  the  great  benefit 
of  his  boy. 

At  length  we  open  our  grammar  and 
commence  with  penna.  Its  singular  con- 
sists of  six  words.  When  these  had  been 
thoroughly  committed  to  memory  by  each 
and  every  pupil,  I  should  request  them  to 
limit  their  attention  for  the  present  to  the 
three  cases  — 

The  Nominative, 

The  Genitive  or  Possessive,  and 

The  Ablative ; 

and  I  should  request  them  to  .write  down 
on  their  memories,  or  in  a  copy-book,  if 
they  preferred,  these  three  cases  for  the  fol- 
lowing nouns  — 

puella,  aquila, 

aqua,  matrona, 

ala,  ancilla ; 


68  FROM   PENNA   TO  POSSUM, 

and  the  same  for  the  adjectives  — 

bona,  nigra, 

mala,  pessima, 

Candida,  optima ; 

and  by  means  of  these,  and  the  simple  word 
e8t^  we  might  form  scores  of  sentences. 
These  sentences  might  be  varied  by  plac- 
ing two  nouns  together,  as,  ala  aquilce,  or 
aquilce  ala :  we  might  then  throw  in  two 
prepositions  in  and  cum^  governing  the  ab- 
lative ;  and  a  pupil  would  thus,  in  one  les- 
son, be  furnished  with  verbal  machinery  for 
forming  sentences  without  number;  com- 
mon familiar  sentences,  such  as  he  might 
use  at  dinner-table  or  in  the  playground,  if 
he  chose. 

In  due  time  let  us  take  the  plural  of 
penna,  and  that  of  the  six  similar  nouns, 
and  of  the  six  feminine  adjectives;  and  de- 
cline them  with  adjectives  in  combination 
with  nouns,  till  each  and  every  pupil  has 
them  at  his  finger-ends ;  and  let  us  revise 
the  lesson  of  the  previous  day.  Now,  then, 
let  us  throw  in  the  word  sunt^  and  a  few 
adverbs  of  common  occurrence  in  ordinary 
talk;  as  nunc,  tunc,  semper,  nunquam;  and 


FROM  PENNA  TO  POSSUM.  69 

repeat,  with  our  extended  vocabulary,  the 
viva  voce  process  of  the  preceding  day  or 
days. 

Let  our  next  lesson  be  the  singular  and 
plural  of  penna  ;  with  the  singular  of  dom- 
inus.  Let  us  now  decline,  like  the  latter, 
six  familiar  nouns ;  and  the  masculines  of 
the  adjectives  before  mentioned ;  and  pause 
awhile  to  illustrate  the  echoing  propensi- 
ties of  a  Latin  adjective :  then  let  us  throw 
in  one  or  two  more  familiar  adverbs,  and 
proceed  with  our  vivd  voce  as  before. 

For  the  next  day,  let  us  be  similarly  en- 
gaged with  the  plural  of  dominus  and  the 
like  nouns  and  adjectives ;  and  for  our  vivd 
voce  throw  in  tlie  masculines  and  feminines 
of  the  following  participles  — 

amatiis,  fractus, 

culpatus,  monitus, 

laudat  us,  auditus  ; 

remembering  that,  hitherto^  in  our  spoken 
sentences^  we  are  limited  to  the  use  of  the 
three  originally  specified  cases. 

When  I  reach  regnum^  I  may  thiow  in 
the  neuters  of  all  the  adjectives  and  par- 


70  FROM  PENNA  TO  POSSUM. 

ticiples  hitherto  used ;  and,  meanwhile,  we 
may  have  introduced  the  present  tense  of 
sum^  and  additional  adverbs  or  adverbial 
expressions  from  time  to  time. 

Thus,  on  arriving  at  the  end  of  the  sec- 
ond declension,  we  shall  have  a  somewhat 
extensive  vocabulary ;  and  by  a  skilful  use 
of  it  we  may  vary  our  spoken  sentences 
almost  ad  infinitum. 

By  and  by,  the  present  tense  of  amo 
should  be  introduced,  with  that  of  a  few 
similar  verbs;  and  we  should  then  call  in 
simultaneously  the  accusatives  of  all  our 
declinable  words  to  follow  active-transitive 
verbs. 

The  indicative  mood  of  sum  and  amo 
might  thus  be  introduced,  by  instalments, 
before  we  reached  the  end  of  the  fifth 
declension.  And  meanwhile  our  attention 
would  have  been  confined  entirely  to  nouns 
regular  in  inflexion  and  gender;  the  irreg- 
ulars being  left  to  be  incorporated  in  due 
time. 

While  the  declensions  were  being  rigor- 
ously committed  to  memory,  we  should 
almost  imperceptibly  be  throwing  in  prep- 


FROM  PENNA   TO  POSSUM.  71 

osition,  adverb,  or  tense,  that  would  enable 
the  pupil  to  use  his  little  store  of  declined 
words  almost  as  soon  as  he  acquired  it.  We 
should  in  fact  have  used  our  declensions  as 
the  boiling  water,  and  the  extraneous  words 
as  our  oatmeal;  and  by  scattering  in  the 
latter  gradually  and  in  thinnest  streams 
and  adding  such  sales  as  were  at  hand,  we 
should  probably  have  provided  a  porridge 
not  wholly  indigestible. 

We  should  now  proceed  to  our  verbs. 
They  would  now  be  transmuted  to  the 
water,  and  the  nouns  to  component  parts 
of  the  oatmeal.  Three  tenses  per  diem 
would,  probably,  be  our  allowance ;  but  to 
every  tense  we  should  append  strings  of 
examples,  and  would  be  gradually  increas- 
ing our  vocabulary  of  words,  and  using 
those  numerous  rules  of  syntax,  in  which 
Latin  is  in  harmony  with  English.  It  would 
be  as  well  to  classify  our  nouns,  as  we  in- 
troduced them.  One  day  we  might  attach 
to  one  or  two  well-conned  verbs  the  names 
of  trees  or  flowers;  similarly,  we  might 
make  our  pupils  familiar  with  the  names 
of  beasts  and  birds  and  fishes ;  the  articles 


72  FROM  PENNA   TO  POSSUM. 

of  ordinary  furniture  in  a  Roman  dwelling , 
the  parts  and  rigging  of  a  ship ;  terms  mil- 
itary; terms  of  courtesy;  degrees  of  con- 
sanguinity; not  mapping  out  our  proceed- 
ings on  all  occasions,  but  following  nature 
and  impulse ;  and  we  should,  doubtless,  find 
their  guidance  more  direct  than  that  of  any 
trumpery  Delectus  in  existence. 

And  all  the  while,  we  should  be  endeav- 
oring to  deceive  our  little  fellows,  by  con- 
cealing from  them  the  real  amount  of  their 
increasing  stores.  So  long  as  we  abstained 
from  using  a  pedantic  and  dull  grammar, 
we  should  easily  deceive,  in  this  respect,  a 
number  of  their  parents,  who  would  be 
firmly  persuaded  that  their  children  were 
learning  nothing.  For  in  the  minds  of 
many  "people,  education  is  inseparably  con- 
nected with  the  idea  of  difficulty  and  te- 
diousness.  They  imagine  that  a  great  deal 
must  be  accomplishing,  when  painful  ef- 
forts are  being  made.  They  find  a  grim 
satisfaction  in  the  feeling  of  obstruction. 
So  when  you  row  a  boat  against  the  stream, 
you  hear  the  water  ruckling  at  the  prow, 
and  you  feel  virtue  go  out  of  you  at  every 


FROM  PENNA   TO  POSSUM.  73 

sweep  of  the  oar;  and  the  boat  is  almost 
stationary.  But,  when  you  row  with  the 
current,  you  hear  no  noise  of  rippling ;  you 
scarcely  feel  your  oar ;  and  the  boat  is  glid- 
ing like  a  swan. 

Some  such  method  as  that  above  —  and 
remember,  a  vivd  voce  method  can,  at  the 
best,  be  drawn  in  but  faintest  outline  upon 
paper  —  would  lead  boys  to  catch  with  ra- 
pidity sentences  of  great  length.,  so  long  as 
the  construction  were  not  involved.  They 
would  almost  insensibly  be  brought  to  think 
in  Latin  ;  that  is  to  say,  it  would  very  soon 
sound  as  ridiculous  in  their  ears,  to  put  ille 
after  amo  as  to  put  he  after  I  love  ;  and  this 
intuitive  'perception  oi  the  grammar  of  a  lan- 
guage, as  connected  with  its  musical  sound, 
is  one  of  the  first  requisites  for  a  subse- 
quent thorough  knowledge  of,  and  capacity 
of  easy  handling  the  same.  And  the  proc- 
ess for  acquiring  this  intuitive  perception 
is  not  so  difiBcult  as  it  is  usually  thought 
to  be.  It  is,  in  fact,  not  a  very  high  men- 
tal process.  It  is  acquired  by  postilions 
abroad  and  foreign  waiters  here,  without 
great  difficulty  or  delay.     But  although  it 


74  FROM  PENNA   TO  POSSUM. 

is  not  a  highly  intellectual  acquisition,  it 
is  a  wonderfully  useful  one,  to  serve  as  a 
foundation  for  a  really  intellectual  struct- 
ure. And  I  am  convinced  that  some  such 
process  should  be  employed  with  a  novice 
in  Latin,  and  in  any  language  he  may  be 
approaching ;  and  that  it  is  a  positive  cru- 
elty to  pin  him  wholly  down  for  a  year  to 
monotonous  lessons  of  memory,  or  to  worry 
him  too  soon  with  formal  rules  for  parsing. 


FROM  POSSUM  TO  PHjEDRUS,       75 


VII. 

FROM   POSSUM   TO    PH^EDRUS. 

The  course  of  study,  sketched  out  in 
rough  outline  in  the  preceding  chapter, 
would  require,  perhaps,  a  session,  or  at  least 
three  quarters  of  a  sessions,  for  the  filling 
in  of  such  shading  as  would  be  requisite  to 
make  of  our  sketch  a  finished  and  sightly- 
drawing.  Whilst  memory  had  been  con- 
tinually engaged  on  the  road  from  Penna 
to  Possum,  we  should  imperceptibly  have 
introduced  all  those  rules  of  syntax  where- 
in Latin  and  English  —  and,  indeed,  all 
the  Arian  languages  —  are  at  one. 

We  might  now  attack,  still  upon  the  vivd 
voce  method,  those  few  rules,  wherein  the 
idiom  of  Latin  is,  or  seems  to  be,  at  variance 
with  that  of  our  own  tongue.  We  might, 
for  a  time,  ingraft  one  such  rule  upon  the 
work  of  each  day;  then  ingraft  them  by 


76        FROM  POSSUM  TO  PH^DRUS. 

twos ;  then  by  threes ;  then  illustrate  then- 
at  random.  And  in  all  our  illustrations  we 
should  use  familiar  expressions,  and  con- 
trast the  Latin  and  English  methods  of 
expressing  some  one  idea  or  circumstance. 
Thus,  for  such  a  sentence  as,  He  struck  the 
tree  with  an  axe^  we  might  show  how  the  use 
of  the  Latin  cum  in  such  a  sentence  would 
convey  the  notion  of  companionship;  or 
that  he  struck  the  tree  along  with  an  axe. 
And  in  such  a  sentence  as,  He  wrote  the 
letters  with  many  tears^  we  might  show  that 
to  omit  the  cum  in  Latin  would  convey  the 
idea  of  instrumentality,  or  that  he  wrote  the 
letters  with  tears  as  a  sort  of  invisible  ink. 
Such  idioms  we  might  illustrate,  so  famil- 
iarly and  repeatedly,  that  their  force  could 
scarcely  fail  to  be  appreciated  by  the  ma- 
jority of,  and  perhaps  by  all,  our  pupils. 
And  all  this  while,  I  must  remind  the 
reader  that  our  class  is  supposed  to  be  en- 
gaged daily^  for  at  least  one  hour.,  in  the 
strict  and  rigorous  analysis  of  some  English 
paragraph  ;  and  that,  during  every  such  les- 
son in  English  grammar,  attention  is  drawn 
to  those  cases  where  the  habits  of  the  two 


FROM  POSSUM  TO  PHuEDRUS.        77 

languages  are  at  one,  and  where  their  idioms 
are  really  or  apparently  at  variance. 

By  this  time  we  should  be  prepared  to 
take  in  hand  some  Latin  book  for  reading. 
And  here  I  should  probably  be  compelled, 
not  without  reluctance,  to  commence  with 
some  Latin  Delectus  or  Reader ;  but,  after- 
wards, I  should  strongly  object  to  any  edi- 
tion of  a  simple  classic  that  should  be  en- 
cumbered with  notes  or  vocabularies.  I 
would  recommend,  for  instance,  a  simple 
text-edition  of  the  Fables  of  Phsedrus :  and 
such  an  edition  would  combine  cheapness 
with  utility  :  and  I  should  take  daily  a  fable 
at  random^  which  should  he  made  out  in  my 
presence.  If,  in  such  a  fable,  I  saw  a  word 
not  previously  met  with,  or  a  difficult  con- 
struction, or  —  what  is  not  unfrequent  —  a 
piece  of  questionable  Latinity,  I  should  give 
due  explanation  or  warning.  And  I  should 
certainly  never  allow  a  fable  to  extend  over 
even  two  days,  for  fear  of  my  pupils  losing 
interest  in  their  work.  And  now  I  should 
commence  systematically  parsing  my  Latin 
lessons,  and  would  draw  special  attention 
to  diversities  of  idiom ;  but  I  would  never 


78        FROM  POSSUM  TO  PH^DRUS. 

call  upon  a  boy  to  repeat  pedantic  and  too 
often  meaningless  rules ;  but  only  to  answer 
directly  such  questions  as  were  put  to  him. 
Thus,  in  such  a  sentence  as,  Suo  se  gladio 
miles  vulneravit^  if  I  asked  the  gender  of 
suo^  I  should  expect  him  only  to  say  mascu- 
line ;  and  if  I  asked  him  to  say  why  it  were 
so,  I  should  expect  him  to  reply,  that  it  was 
so  in  imitation  of,  or  in  agreement  with  the 
gender  of  gladio^  its  noun ;  and  if  I  asked 
him  the  case  of  suo^  I  should  be  content 
with  the  simple  reply  that  it  was  ablative  ; 
and  if  I  further  asked  him  wTiy^  I  should 
expect  him  to  explain  it  on  the  same  prin- 
ciple of  imitation  or  agreement:  but  if  I 
asked  him  why  gladio  were  ablative^  I 
should  expect  him  to  say  that  it  was  so 
as  expressing  the  means  hy  which  the  sol- 
dier did  the  deed.  And,  perhaps,  before 
very  long  I  should  tell  him  that  the  ahla- 
tive  case  meant  the  taking  away  case,  and 
I  should  ask  him  to  find  fault  with  the 
expression  ablative  case  of  the  instrument ; 
and  he  would  doubtless  perceive  that 
the  taking  away  case  could  hardly  be  the 
case  of  means  hy  ivhich^  and  I  then  should 


FROM  POSSUM  TO  Pff^DRUS.       79 

request  him  to  say  simply,  when  asked 
the  ease  of  gladio  in  such  a  sentence, 
that  it  was  the  case  of  instrument^  or  of 
means  hij  wliich.  And  I  should  similarly 
point  out  the  absurdity  of  such  expressions, 
if  I  ever  met  wdth  them,  as  ablative  of  the 
cause^  ablative  of  time^  genitive  of  place; 
and  suggest  that  it  would  be  no  less 
ridiculous  for  us  to  speak  of  the  waking 
condition  of  sleep^  or  the  active  condition  of 
repose. 

And  if  I  came  to  such  a  sentence  as  Puer 
librum  tabulce  imposuit^  I  should  explain 
how  imposuit  mednit put  on;  and  I  should 
say  that  if  a  boy  put,  he  must  first  have 
put  something;  and  that  this  something 
might  be  called  the  primary  object  after 
the  transitive  verb;  and  that  if  lie  put 
something  on,  he  must  also  have  put  that 
something  on  something  else,  which  some- 
thing else  I  should  expect  to  find  in  the 
case  of  the  secondary  object:  unless  a  special 
preposition  were  used,  as  in  English :  and 
so  in  the  above  Latin  sentence  he  would  see 
that  librum  was  the  primary  object  depend- 
ing on  the  posuit  in  the  verb  ;  and  tabulce 


80        FROM  POSSUM  TO  PIIjEDRUS, 

the  secondary  object  depending  immediately 
on  the  in  of  the  same.  And  I  should 
continually  impress  upon  him  that  the 
primary  object  was  rendered  by  what  was 
called  the  accusative;  and  the  secondary 
object  by  what  was  called  the  dative.  And 
I  should  consider  such  a  simple  and  rational 
and  intelligible  way  of  parsing  far  better 
than  the  explaining  the  case  of  tahuloe  by 
so  ridiculous  a  rule,  as 

"  Verbs  compounded  with  these  ten  prepositions, 

AD,  ANTE,  CUM,  IN,   INTER,    OB,  POST,  PR^E,  SUB, 

and  SUPER,  govern  a  dative  case.^' 

And  by  and  by,  when  my  pupils  were 
capable  of  following  me,  I  should  show 
them  that  in  the  termination  of  the  accusa- 
tive, in  that  insignificant  letter  m  at  the 
end  of  the  word,  was  probably  latent  some 
preposition  meaning  on^  upon^  or  to^  which 
made  the  case  to  follow  verbs  or  words  of 
motion  or  activity ;  and  that  all  datives 
properly  ended  in  z,  and  that  this  i  was 
probably  the  corruption  of  some  preposi- 
tion indicating  motion  or  rest,  in  or  at  a 
place  ;  and  that  all  datives  were  really  loca- 
tives or  cases  of  direction. 


FROM  POSSUM  TO  PHjEDRUS.        81 

And  such  explanations,  instead  of  puz- 
zling little  heads,  would  amuse  them  and  re- 
assure them,  by  gradually  bringing  them  to 
perceive  that  in  Latin  there  was  little  of  the 
mysterious,  and  that  the  people  who  once 
spoke  that  language  were  not  all  school- 
masters, but  an  ordinary  mixture  of  people  ; 
tinkers  and  tailors,  and  wise  men  and  fool- 
ish ;  like  the  inhabitants  of  our  own  island. 

Meanwhile,  if  upholders  of  the  system  of 
rule-repetition  argued  against  my  plan  as 
unmethodie  and  vague^  I  should  reply  that  it 
were  better  for  a  boy  to  give  once^  in  simple 
words  that  he  understood,  his  explanation 
of  a  grammatical  phenomenon,  than  to  ac- 
count for  it  a  thousand  times  by  a  set  formula 
that  he  understood  partially  or  not  at  all. 
And  I  should  assert  that  when  a  child  has 
once  got  a  tliorough  mental  grasp  of  a  gram- 
matical phenomenon^  he  cannot  let  it  go, 
though  he  try  hard  to  do  so ;  any  more  than 
an  educated  man,  unless  reduced  to  an 
unnatural  imbecility,  can  forget  that  three 
times  three  makes  nine,  or  that  the  three 
angles  of  a  triangle  are  together  equivalent 
to  two  right  angles. 


82        FROM  POSSUM  TO  PHJEDRUS. 

And  I  would  add  that  it  was  with  repe- 
tition, as  with  all  things  good  and  useful, 
quite  possible  to  have  too  much  of  it.  A 
child,  if  kept  continually  at  a  few  airs  upon 
the  piano,  will  ultimately  lose  all  sense  of 
their  melody;  and  a  boy  may  repeat  a 
grammar  rule  until  it  cease  to  carry  an  echo 
of  meaning  to  his  mind — and  here  I  am 
boldly  premising  that  it  originally  did  carry 
a  rather  faint  one.  As  in  mental,  so  in 
physical  operations,  there  are  limits  to  the 
rule  of  repetition.  We  never  heard  of  a 
boy  forgetting  to  swim,  or  not  learning  to 
swim  better,  after  he  could  once  swim 
twenty  strokes ;  or  forgetting  to  skate, 
after  having  once  skimmed  over  twenty 
yards  on  Duddingston  Loch;  and  that^  too^ 
although  months  and  even  years  might  have 
elapsed  between  two  separate  occasions  of 
swimming  or  skating. 


tROM  PHJ^DRUS  TO  FAREWELL.     83 


VIII. 

FROM    PH^DRUS    TO    FAREWELL. 

In  my  walk  this  afternoon  I  overtook 
some  farm-servants,  who  were  engaged  in 
talk;  and  caught  the  following  words,  from 
a  lassie,  as  I  passed  by :  "  Well :  I  thocht 
there  were  a  gate^  And  the  sentence  at 
once  suggested  itself  as  a  simple  example  of 
the  philological  superiority  of  vulgar  to 
literary  speech.  The  Abstract  Bagman 
would  imagine  there  lay  a  blunder  in  the 
were.  The  real  blunder  is  in  his  own  was. 
The  were  is  not  plural,  but  an  unconscious, 
traditional  conservation  of  the  old  subjunc- 
tive, with  its  modification  of  vowel-sound. 
I  should  have,  perhaps,  only  puzzled  the 
farm-lassie,  had  I  stopped  to  tell  her  that 
she  was  more  than  justified  in  putting  her 
secondary  verb  into  a  mood  of  dubitative- 
ness,  seeing  that  the  primary  verb  from  its 


84     FROM  PIIjEDRUS  TO  FAREWELL. 

very  signification  precluded  the  idea  of  cer- 
titude in  the  dependent  statement.  Very 
probably,  before  my  commendation  had 
been  closed,  her  sweetheart  would  have 
punched  my  head,  under  the  idea  that 
some  indelicacy  were  lurking  beneath  my 
polysyllables. 

But,  revenons  a  nos  moutons^  whom  we 
left  browsing  on  Phsedrus.  As  too  early 
an  acquaintance  with  metrical  Latin  is  apt 
to  confuse  a  child's  healthy,  natural  ideas 
of  the  position  of  words,  I  should  be  at 
great  pains  to  provide  a  corrective  by 
spoken  sentences,  and  the  use  of  a  good 
exercise-book,  if  I  could  procure  one.  Ar- 
nold's First  Latin  Composition-book  is  an 
admirable  manual,  but  the  price  is  so  out- 
rageously exorbitant,  that  I  should  hesitate 
in  suggesting  its  purchase.  However,  if 
the  book  be  dear,  it  is  certainly  good ;  and 
that  palliation  cannot  be  given  for  the  ma- 
jority of  dear  school-books.  I  could  in- 
stance a  very  remarkable  case  of  Selections 
from  Herodotus.  Taking  the  Tauchnitz 
standard  of  price  as  regards  the  mere  an- 
cient text,  I   should  say  there  was  about 


FROM  PK^EDRUS   TO  FAREWELL      85 

two  pennyworth  of  Greek  in  the  bookling 
I  have  in  view :  the  notes  might  possibly 
be  worth  a  penny,  and  a  paper-cover  might 
be  got  for  the  fraction  of  a  farthing.  The 
book  in  question,  to  the  disgrace  of  the 
publisher  or  purchaser,  costs  four  shillings 
and  sixpence.  I  would  rather  publish  the 
classics  than  teach  them. 

It  is  a  very  singular  fact,  that  while  we 
confessedly  use  Latin  as  the  chief  instru- 
ment for  inculcating  clear  and  precise  views 
•  on  the  philosophy  of  language,  our  pupils 
are  early  made  familiar  with  constructions 
—  especially  in  verse — where  the  simple 
law  of  natural  speech  is  violated  in  obedi- 
ence to  questionable  rules  of  rhetoric,  or  the 
imperious  demands  of  non-Italian  metre. 
Take,  for  instance,  the  first  line  we  meet 
in  opening  our  Virgil : 

Tityre,  tu,  patiilx  recubans  sub  tegmine fagi. 

I  would  venture  to  affirm  that  the  correct 
way  of  translating  this  line  is :  0  Tityrus^ 
that  reclinest  beneath  the  shelter  of  the  beech 
when  spreading ;  indicating  somewhat  su- 
perfluously that  the  person  addressed  never 
so  reclined  when  the  tree  was  bare,  and 


86     FROM  P ELBRUS  TO  FAREWELL, 

the  weather,  probably,  damp  or  cold.  Of 
course  it  is  obvious  that  patulee  is  intended 
as  a  mere  epithet  of  fagi.  But  according 
to  all  the  rules  of  natural  speech,  ancient 
or  modern,  the  epithet  should  cling  as 
closely  to  its  noun,  as  the  bark  to  the  tree, 
the  glove  to  the  hand,  the  drapery  to  the 
human  form.  And,  whenever,  such  a  dis- 
location as  the  one  above  quoted  takes 
place,  a  novice  should  have  explained  to 
him  the  reasons  for  the  divorce  of  wedded 
words ;  and  should  be  informed  that,  what, 
natural  speech  had  joined  together,  foreign 
metre  had  pat  asunder.  Take  another  line : 
a  very  beautiful  one  to  an  ear  trained  to 
the  abnormal  licenses  of  Latin  verse : 

Invalidas^Q  tibi  tendens,  heu!  non  tua,  palmas. 
Here  our  epithet  and  noun,  that  should  be 
as  close  together  as  the  white  legs  of  a  toy- 
soldier,  are  straddling  like  a  Colossus,  for 
a  fleet  of  petty  words  to  sail  under. 

The  second  line  of  the  elegiac  stanza 
sins  continually  against  the  rules  of  natural 
arrangement;  but  the  peculiar  difficulty  of 
the  metre  pleads  as  a  circonstance  attenu- 
ante. 


FROM  PHJ^DRUS  TO   FAREWELL.     87 

Bat  it  is  not  in  verse  alone  that  a  pupil 
will  stumble  over  artificial  collocations. 
They  abound  in  prose,  wherever  a  writer 
is  affecting  the  grand  style,  or  is  talking 
fine ;  whenever  Livy  begins  scene-painting ; 
or  Cicero  to  roll  in  flood;  or  Tacitus  to 
"  glower  into  a  puddle ; "  or  Juvenal  to 
pour  the  vials  of  his  carefully-bottled  wrath 
upon  excesses,  with  which  he  betrays  a  sus- 
picious familiarity.  A  pupil,  by  being 
brought  into  too  early  an  acquaintance 
with  the  tricks  of  rhetoric,  fails  later  on  to 
appreciate  their  force.  With  a  sober-tinted 
background  of  natural  Latin,  these  artificial 
figures  would  be  brought  out  in  full  relief ; 
as  it  is,  they  blend  with  the  surrounding 
landscape,  and  the  whole  picture,  to  the 
art-student,  has  a  dim  and  hazy  look.  If 
a  pupil  throughout  the  whole  course  of  his 
elementary  training  were  only  or  chiefly 
conversant  with  easy-flowing  constructions; 
when  he  came,  subsequently,  upon  the  ar- 
tificial arrangements  cf  a  rhetorical  pas- 
sage, their  peculiarity  would  at  once  arrest 
his  attention ;  and  the  writer's  end  would 
thus  be  attained ;  for  it  was  just  to  arrest 


88     FROM  PHJEDRUS  TO  FAREWELL. 

a  reader's  attention  that  he  arranged  his 
words  abnormally. 

Furthermore,  in  sentences  of  spoken 
Latin,  where  the  words  should  run  in  as 
natural  an  order  as  they  do  in  un-rhetorical 
Italian,  or,  if  you  please,  in  common  Eng- 
lish, I  should  not  hesitate  to  clip  my  adjec- 
tives of  their  terminations,  wherever  I  could 
do  so  musically.  Thus,  I  should  not  hesi- 
tate to  say :  Bon^  aurum  ^st :  noii  id,  m  ^er- 
cule,  hon^  hominis  H ;  but  in  such  a  sen- 
tence as  Bona  femivH  erat  mater  tua,  I  can- 
not clip  the  adjective  before  a  consonant, 
as  the  Italian  ear  is  abhorent  of  consonantal 
endings. 

For  a  long  while,  then,  I  should,  in  all  my 
spoken  sentences,  make  my  adjectives  and 
nouns  walk  in  loose  pairs,  side  by  side ;  like 
the  beasts  into  a  Noah's  ark,  or  school-girls 
in  their  joyless  processions.  In  course  of 
time,  I  should  allow  the  adjective  to  throw 
its  arms  around  its  noun ;  or  make  the  couple 
touch  finger-tips,  as  in  a  country  dance, 
while  their  companion-words  ran  under- 
neath. 

When   I  had  sufficiently  guarded  my 


FROM  PUuEBRUS  TO  FAREWELL.      89 

pupils  against  an  unreasoning  belief  in  un- 
reasonable word-arrangements,  I  should 
venture  to  put  into  their  hands  the  exqui- 
site Metamorphoses  of  Ovid.  One  or  two 
of  the  stories  I  should  set  aside,  as  victims 
for  sacrifice ;  or  as  scape-goats  to  be  driven 
into  the  wilderness  of  parsing.  From  these 
our  daily  lessons  for  a  time  would  be 
chosen;  and  these  lessons  would  be  duly 
construed,  parsed,  scanned,  and  committed 
to  memory.  But  I  should  from  time  to 
time  construe  to  them  in  uninterrupted 
English  some  of  the  most  interesting 
stories;  making  comments  as  I  went  on,  but 
requiring  no  preparation,  and  no  parsing. 

Common  sense  would  lead  me  to  omit 
several  stories.  Many,  however,  that  Pru- 
dery would  pass  by,  I  should  exhibit  in 
all  the  exquisiteness  of  their  naked  grace. 
I  should  follow  Actaeon  through  the  wood, 
until  he  came  upon  the  fountain  where 
Diana  was  bathing,  with  her  pretty  hand- 
maids round  her.  And  I  should  ask  my 
boys,  if  they  had  ever  surprised  the  goddess 
and  her  nymphs  in  their  watery  revels; 
and  they  would  tell  me  that,  in  their  holi- 


UNIVERSITY 


90     FROM  PH^DRUS  TO  FAREWELL. 

days,  on  clear  summer  nights,  in  some  lake 
among  their  own  glorious  mountains,  they 
had  seen  the  crescent-moon  and  the  twink- 
ling stars.  And  I  would  tell  them,  that  the 
story  had  a  moral  meaning  besides  its  po- 
etic one ;  that,  for  all  the  poet  said  to  the 
contrary,  Actseon  was  led  to  the  fountain 
by  curiosity,  and  was  punished  for  this 
fault,  and  not  for  a  mere  mistake.  And  they 
would  agree  with  me  that  the  moral  was 
told  in  his  story  more  gracefully,  although 
not  more  funnily,  than  in  their  old  favorite 
tale  of  Fatima  and  Bluebeard. 

And  I  would  follow  with  them  the  Holy 
Mother  through  the  world,  in  her  search  of 
the  lost  Proserpine.  And  I  would  tell  them, 
how  in  ancient  Egypt  Osiris  died  and  came 
to  life  again,  and  was  lost  and  was  found ; 
and  that,  though  we  had  no  Osiris  in  our 
northern  climes,  we  had  still  our  maiden 
Proserpine,  that  stood  every  spring-time  in 
the  fields  with  the  poppies  in  her  hair ;  and 
that  she  was  stolen  away  every  year  still, 
and  left  for  a  while  her  mother  desolate 
and  forlorn. 

And  when  they  came  to  perceive  what 


FROM  P ELBRUS  TO  FAREWELL.     91 

truths  of  astronomy,  morals,  and  religion 
were  quaintly  and  gracefully  riddled  in 
isweet  Latin  rhythm,  they  would  see  that 
the  fancy  of  Ovid  was  not  limited  to  inde- 
cent images,  as  it  is  supposed  to  have 
been  by  the  Tourist  in  Norwaj^  and  other 
shallow  writers  of  the  Bagman  tribe.  And 
if  a  member  of  this  low  caste  ever  came 
into  my  class-room,  I  would  call  upon  one 
of  the  younger  children  to  show  him  the 
beauty  and  the  truth  of  some  story,  where- 
in his  impure  imagination  and  defective 
scholarship  had  seen  only  a  never-intended 
indecency. 

But  while  in  these  readings  I  should 
exact  no  preparation  and  no  parsing,  I 
should  exact  a  close  and  universal  atten- 
tion ;  and  if  the  latter  were  not  given  by 
any  one  pupil,  I  should  consider  the  class 
and  myself  as  blameworthy,  in  failing,  by 
intellectual  or  moral  means,  to  chain  the 
attention  of  the  wandering  pupil;  and  I 
should  punish  the  class  and  myself  with  the 
loss  of  a  quarter's  play,  for  our  selfish  in- 
attention to  individual  interests.  And,  by 
and  by,  when  I  read  a  hundred  lines  to- 


92     FROM  PHJEDRUS  TO  FAREWELL. 

gether  from  a  Latin  poet ;  slowly  and  dis- 
tinctly, and  following  closely  the  order  of 
Latin  words  with  a  due  regard  to  honest 
English  idioms ;  there  would  probably  not 
be  a  boy  in  my  class  but  would  follow  the 
English  rendering  of  every  Latin  word. 
Acting  upon  this  method,  I  have  read 
through  the  whole  iEneid  with  a  not  very 
advanced  class  in  one  year.  For  every 
twenty  lines  they  had  construed,  parsed, 
and  scanned,  and  said  by  heart,  I  read  them 
a  hundred  lines  in  current  English ;  so  that 
they  read  two  books  in  the  year,  and  I  read 
ten.  I  believe  they  were  the  first  child- 
mariners  in  Great  Britain  that  ever  circum- 
navigated that  splendid  poem. 

Meanwhile,  my  pupils  would  have  reached 
the  period  when  it  is  usual  for  boys  to  be- 
gin versifying.  To  see  this  process  in  all 
its  ridiculous  nakedness,  we  should  have 
to  visit  one  of  the  great  English  schools. 
I  have  known  young  pupils  to  be  removed 
from  Dunedin  to  Harrow,  or  Rugby,  or 
Marlborough,  or  other  schools  of  fame. 
Their  parents  have  sometimes  told  me  that 
James  or  Willy  was  reported  as  doing  very 


FROM  PHjEDRUS  TO  FAREWELL.     93 

well ;  only  that  he  was  very  deficient  m  his 
Latin  verses.  I  remember  a  lady  telling 
me  this,  with  a  face  of  great  concern,  as 
the  report  sent  in  of  her  own  boy.  This 
boy  of  hers  had  a  capital  prose  head,  but 
Avould  turn  a  summersault  as  easily  as  a 
pentameter. 

Whilst  I  should  impress  upon  all  my 
pupils,  gradually  but  orally,  the  strict  rules 
of  quantity  and  scansion,  I  should  make 
my  verse  exercises  optional ;  and  I  should 
not  be  surprised  or  annoyed  if  I  found  some 
of  my  best  boys  unwilling  to  undertake 
them,  or,  in  their  execution,  coming  below 
their  ordinary  standard  of  intelligence. 

And  now.  Reader,  I  would  willingly  draw 
you  on  with  me  through  an  initiatory  course 
of  Greek ;  and  show  you  how  interesting 
and  amusing  may  be  made  the  study  of  its. 
regular  declension  and  conjugation ;  how 
the  bare  branches  of  its  rudiments  may  be 
clothed  with  green  leaves;  how  with  the 
besom  of  common  sense  we  should  sweep 
aorists  and  polysyllables  underneath  the 
schoolroom  grate.  Or,  leaving  grammar  on 
the   ground-floor,  I  would  fain  carry  you 


94     FROM  PH^DRUS  TO  FAREWELL. 

along  with  me  up  our  Greek  staircase  to 
Plato  and  ^schylus  and  Aristophanes  in 
the  drawing-room,  or  to  exercises  in  prose 
and  iambics  in  the  garret.  But,  Reader, 
how  can  I  hope  to  retain  you  so  long,  when 
I  fail  to  retain  my  own  pupils  ?  If  I  begin 
my  march  at  Penna  with  half  a  hundred 
little  privates,  before  the  march  is  ended 
my  company  has  been  eight  times  deci- 
mated, and  a  sorry  decade  is  left  for  the 
closing  of  the  campaign.  Some  have  fallen 
by  the  way,  and  been  buried  in  lawyers' 
offices,  or  counting-houses,  or  beneath  bank- 
counters.  Some  have  deserted,  and  gone  to 
serve  commanders,  who  give  them  a  finer 
uniform  and  less  toilsome  work.  . 

I  met  the  other  day  a  former  pupil,  whose 
school-fellows  are  still  under  me :  he  stopped 
to  shake  me  by  the  hand,  and  I  was  de- 
lighted to  see  him,  for,  though  his  talents 
were  below  mediocrity,  he  was  a  well-con- 
ditioned, manly  little  fellow.  If  he  were 
still  in  his  old  school-class,  he  would  pro- 
bably be  a  successful  candidate  for  the  last 
place  but  one.  I  asked  him  what  he  was 
now  engaged  in,  and  he  told  me,  somewhat 


FROM  PHJEDRUS  TO  FAREWELL.     95 

nervously,  that  he  was  attending  the  class 
of  Logic  and  Metaphysics.  And  this  rejjly 
of  his  set  me  thinking,  Reader,  of  that 
wondrous  chain  of  gold  that  binds  to  one 
another  all  things  in  nature,  animate  and 
inanimate ;  how  the  green  grass  grows  upon 
the  idle  hills  to  feed  the  silly  sheep ;  how 
the  silly  sheep  browse  thereupon  to  fatten 
you  and  me ;  and  how  the  great  round 
world,  with  its  green  hills,  and  its  silly 
sheep,  and  all  its  boys  and  schoolmasters, 
is  bound  by  the  chain  of  gold  fast  to  the 
throne  of  Zeus.  So,  looking  into  that  frank 
and  pleasant  face,  I  thought :  "  Well,  my 
boy,  thou  art  not  living  altogether  in  vain. 
When  thou  quittest  this  thy  bleating- 
ground,  thou  wilt  leave  some  tags  of  wool 
behind  thee.  And  the  fleece  of  thy  modest 
fees  will  cover  with  an  over-coat  the  learned 
form  of  a  most  excellent  professor." 


TEETH  ON  EDGE, 


IX. 

TEETH    ON   EDGE    AND    CLOSED    LIPS. 

The  Cardinal  of  Westminster  has  the 
reputation  of  being  the  best  Latinist  of  all 
that  now  wear  violet  stockings.  What  an 
interesting  experiment  it  would  be  to  kid- 
nap his  Eminence  with  the  ambassador  from 
Athens  into  the  Cambridge  senate-house, 
when  the  annual  prize  exercises  were  being 
read  in  Latin  and  Greek  verse.  I  take  it 
for  granted  that  the  Cardinal,  from  the 
sacredness  of  his  calling,  has  somewhat  of 
the  Heraclitus  in  his  composition;  and 
that  the  ambassador,  from  the  vivacity  of 
his  nation,  will  sympathize  more  with  the 
laughter  of  Abdera.  I  can  imagine  that  his 
Excellency  would  listen  wonderingly  dur- 
ing the  recital  of  The  Greek  Ode ;  and,  on 
hearing  that  it  was  in  his  own  language, 
would  burst,  in  spite  of  his  good-breeding, 


AND   CLOSED  LIPS.  97 

into  an  uncontrollable  guffaw.  Before  the 
Latin  hexameters  had  gone  through  twelve 
lines,  the  Cardinal  would  be  removed  to  the 
Lodge  of  Trinity,  and  treated  soothingly 
for  a  temporary  derangement  of  the  diges- 
tive organs. 

Were  you  ever  present.  Reader,  at  the 
public  distribution  of  prizes  at  a  great  Eng- 
lish school  ?  If  so,  you  will  have  heard  the 
senior  pupils  recite  what  are  called  Alcaics 
and  Elegiacs,  with  a  thin,  scrannel-pipe  pro- 
nunciation, and  a  mechanical  observance  of 
the  skeleton-rules  of  scanning.  This  is  not 
their  fault.  Some  of  these  lads  have  musi- 
cal ears ;  most  of  them  can  hum  "God  save 
the  Queen ; "  and  all  are  quite  aware  that 
they  are  uttering  sounds  as  harmonious  as 
if  one  whistled  on-  the  edge  of  a  comb.  Not 
their  fault  at  all.  They  are  taught  by  us 
to  read  a  most  exquisitely  musical  language 
in  this  barbarous  way.  You  may  hear  the 
Italian  flute  played  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
resemble  a  split  fife,  by  the  public  orators 
at  our  great  universities. 

At  a  time  when  Greek  was  becoming  the 
language  of  the  civilized  world,  and  enter- 


98  TEETH  ON  EDGE, 

ing  as  the  first  linguistic  element  into  the 
education  of  youth,  a  grammarian  of  Alex- 
andria suggested  the  idea  of  accentuating 
all  Greek  words,  as  a  help  in  the  study  of 
a  very  intricate  tongue,  and  as  a  means  for 
conserving  its  traditional  rhythm.  A  few 
such  accents  yon  may  see  in  books  of  mod- 
ern times;  French,  Italian,  and  Spanish. 
To  a  native,  or  a  foreigner  thoroughly  con- 
versant with  Greek,  such  multitudinous 
accents  as  a  page  of  Greek  now  exhibits  are 
blots  upon  the  original  text ;  and  you  may 
imagine  how  they  would  have  appeared  to 
an  Athenian  of  the  time  of  Pericles,  by  ob- 
serving the  effect  upon  yourself  of  the  fol- 
lowing style  of  printing : 

The  current  that  with  gentle  murmur  glides, 

Thou  know'st,  being  stdpp'd,  'impatiently  doth  rage. 

These  marks  might  be  of  some  assistance 
to  a  young  Hindoo  student  of  English,  but 
they  would,  in  all  probability,  have  pre- 
vented Shakespeare  from  recognizing  his 
own  handiwork.  They  give  the  appearance 
of  poetry  severely  scarred  with  the  small-pox. 

However,  the  ingenious  invention  of  the 
old  grammarian  has  met  with  a  fate  that  no 


AND   CLOSED  LIPS.  99 

oracle,  by  any  possibility,  could  have  prog- 
nosticated. His  accents,  even  where  they 
are  questionably  correct^  are  carefully  pre- 
served in  writing,  and  the  rules  upon  which 
they  proceed  are  sedulously  studied,  al- 
though their  study  is  a  somewhat  perplex- 
ing one  ;  but  strange  to  say,  they  are  never 
observed  in  the  way  he  must  have  had  in 
view,  —  we  never  sound  a  single  word  ac- 
cording to  their  suggestions,  except  by 
chance.  We  have  a  leader  in  our  Greek 
concert,  who  flourishes  his  baton  vigorously, 
and  in  what  is  thought  correctest  time,  but 
the  members  of  the  orchestra  are  independ- 
ent of  his  rule,  and  regardless  of  one  an- 
other. 

Towards  the  close  of  my  school-days,  I 
used  to  envy  very  much  my  best  of  school- 
friends  the  privilege  he  enjoyed  of  supping 
from  time  to  time  with  the  greatest  of  then 
living  writers.  I  remember  his  describing 
to  me  how  this  veteran  scholar  read  an  ode 
of  Horace  after  the  pronunciation  he  had 
recently  heard  in  Tuscany ;  and  I  confess 
that  until  I  had  heard  the  simple  but  sweet 
music  of  the  Italian  vowels,  I  had  had  no 


100  TEETH  ON  EDGE, 

idea  that  the  Roman  lyre  could  be  struck 
to  such  reverberant  sound.  Indeed,  I  had 
always  imagined  that  the  cadence  of  Latin 
poetry  resembled  the  intermittent  notes  of 
the  piano,  and  I  found,  to  my  surprise  and 
pleasure,  that  it  admitted  of  the  prolonged 
vibrations  and  rolls  of  the  violin  and  organ. 
Perhaps  in  no  piece  of  Latin  poetry  is  the 
fulness  of  Italian  sound,  and  the  thinness 
of  our  own,  more  readily  appreciable  than 
in  that  Latinest  of  Latin  poems,  the  Atys 
of  Catullus.  If  any  English  scholar  can 
succeed  in  making  this  poem  sound  musi- 
cally in  the  ears  of  man,  woman,  or  child, 
with  our  orthodox  accentuation,  he  will 
have  rivalled  that  ingenious  German  youth 
who  produced  the  sounds  of  half  an  orches- 
tra from  a  combination  of  Jew's-harps. 

But,  if  our  English  pronunciation  of  Lat- 
in be  unmusical  for  verse,  it  is  absolutely 
ludicrous  for  prose,  and  the  more  so  as  the 
prose  approaches  the  familiar  and  conver- 
sational style.  We  have  but  to  read  a  scene 
of  Plautus  out  loud,  or  to  see  one  travestied 
at  Westminster,  to  convince  ourselves  of 
this  fact.     For  the  purposes  of  carrying  on 


AND  CLOSED  LIPS,  IQl 

an  extempore  conversation,  our  method  of 
pronouncing  is  as  ill-adapted  as  our  system 
of  teaching.  But  it  will  be  argued  that 
there  would  be  no  utility  in  a  scholar's 
possessing  the  power  of  fluently  speaking 
either  of  the  old  languages ;  that  they  are 
taught  merely  as  abstract  studies,  for  the 
purpose  of  conveying  strict  ideas  of  gram- 
mar and  philology ;  that  the  mere  sound  of 
vowels  and  the  accentuation  of  words  are 
but  trifles  compared  with  the  intellectual 
end  in  view. 

I  freely  acknowledge  that  the  heads  of 
our  greatest  English  schools  are  boldly  self- 
consistent.  They  unflinchingly  extend  their 
system  to  modern  languages;  and  I  could 
name  more  than  one  flourishing  and  aris- 
tocratic school,  where  French  is  taught  by 
an  English  clergyman  with  an  accent  that 
would  set  a  Parisian  coiffeur  in  convulsions ; 
where  every  u  is  sounded  like  the  u  in 
flute^  and  every  final  n  is  clenched  with  an 
honest,  Teuton  guttural. 

In  his  sixth  year  of  tuition,  a  very  excel- 
lent pupil  left  me  for  one  of  the  most  famous 
of  southern  schools.     He  was  at  the  time 


102  TEETH  ON  EDGE, 

well  advanced  in  French  and  German.  He 
went  south,  I  was  told,  to  acquire  an  English 
accent.  He  went  south,  I  know,  to  lose 
that  of  French  and  German.  The  latter 
language  he  was  advised  to  discontinue,  as 
it  interfered  with  the  more  important  study 
of  Latin  versification.  The  study  of  French, 
however,  is  continued  for  him  by  an  Eng- 
lishman, with  a  sort  of  club-footed  pronun- 
ciation. "-  Oh,  never  mind  his  German," 
said  the  Vice-Principal,  —  who,  strange  to 
say,  is  an  excellent  modern  linguist,  —  to 
my  pupil's  father ;  "he  can  pick  it  up  in  six 
weeks  (!)  after  he  has  left  us."  I  think  it 
must  have  taken  about  the  same  time  for 
the  clergyman  of  that  establishment  to  pick 
up  his  French,  with  its  club-footed  and 
hoof-like  accentuation. 

Now,  Reader,  reflect  for  one  moment 
upon  the  paradox  that  is  presented  to  us. 
We  have  two  languages,  Greek  and  Latin — 
neither  of  which  has  ceased  to  be  spoken  in 
continental  Europe ;  two  languages,  which 
have  become  our  chief  instruments  of 
higher  education,  irrespectively  altogether  of 
the  chief  end  of  any  language  ;  to  wit,  the 


AND   CLOSED  LIPS.  103 

expression  of  thought  by  speech.  There  is 
a  good  deal  of  tomfoolery  in  the  teaching 
of  many  of  our  boarding-schools;  but  I  have 
never  yet  heard  of  any  enterprising  and 
philosophical  German  illustrating  to  young 
ladies  a  course  of  musical  lectures  by  means 
of  a  violin  that  went  thud-thud^  and  a  piano 
that  went  jingle-jangle. 

I  once  dined  with  a  friend,  whose  rooms 
were  in  the  house  of  a  patissiere^  who  gave 
lessons  in  pastry-making  to  a  class  of  young 
ladies.  I  formed  a  good  idea  of  her  didactic 
system  from  the  indigestibility  of  a  pie- 
crust, which  was  served  up  in  my  honor  ; 
for,  detecting  the  hand  of  a  novice  in  the 
pastry,  I  inferred  that  the  teacher's  method 
was  strictly  practical;  aiid  indeed,  at  the 
time,  I  selfishly  regretted  that  it  was  so. 

Again,  good  Reader,  reflect  for  another 
moment  upon  another  paradox.  Let  us 
suppose  that  by  advertising,  or  some  other 
omnipotent  means,  we  could  obtain  a  nur- 
sery-maid, a  housemaid,  and  a  cook,  who 
could  all  speak  Latin  ;  and  that  your  little 
daughter,  from  the  age  of  seven  to  nine, 
should  hear  them  daily  conversing  in  her 


104  TEETH  ON  EDGE, 

nursery.  Why,  in  two  years  she  would  talk 
Latin  as  fluently  as  you  talk  English.  Now, 
do  you  suppose  that  the  power  of  speaking 
it  with  ease  would  be  a  barrier  to  her  under- 
standing the  theory  of  its  grammar  ?  Or 
will  you  venture  to  affirm  that  this  imper- 
ceptibly-acquired power  would  not  be  a  very 
powerful  assistance  to  her  and  you,  if  you 
should  ever  carry  her  in  that  language  to 
the  analytic  study  of  its  syntax?  Well, 
Eeader,  you  have,  I  will  suppose,  a  son,  who 
has  been  acquiring  an  English  accent,  and 
a  partial  control  over  the  elegiac  metre  in 
some  public  school;  say  for  the  last  six 
years.  When  he  next  dines  at  home,  take 
him  unawares  at  dessert-time,  and  offer  him 
a  guinea  if  he  can  express  the  following  sen- 
tence in  correct  Latin :  "  I  have  been  learn- 
ing Latin  for  six  years;  and,  upon  my 
word,  I  don't  think  I  could,  in  that  lan- 
guage, say  Bo  to  a  goose."  Your  guinea 
will  be  quite  safe.  But  if  your  little  daugh- 
ter has  had  a  French  governess  for  six 
months,  a  similar  experiment  in  French 
would  be  attended  with  some  risk. 

A  member  of  my  own  family,  who  re- 


AND   CLOSED  LIPS.  105 

ceived  his  early  education  in  Florence,  and 
graduated  very  recently  at  our  Edinburgh 
University,  was  making  a  tour  of  Holland 
during  the  last  summer.  He  had  introduc- 
tions to  some  of  the  chief  medical  professors 
in  Utrecht.  He  went  through  the  various 
wards  in  the  hospital  with  the  Professor  of 
Clinical  Surgery  and  his  posse  of  students. 
For  an  hour  and  a  half^  the  Professor,  out 
of  compliment  to  the  stranger,  made  every 
remark  to  his  students  in  Latin.  And  in- 
stead of  giggling,  or  nudging  each  other, 
the  students  took  notes,  and  seemed  to  fol- 
low with  ease  all  that  was  said.  And,  what 
is  more  curious  still,  the  stranger  followed 
all  the  remarks  made,  as  easily  as  if  they 
had  been  given  in  English,  French,  Italian, 
or  German,  although  his  Latin  studies  had 
been  discontinued  at  a  much  earlier  period 
than  Avhen  a  scholar  usually  leaves  an  Eng- 
lish school  for  the  University.  But  then, 
in  boyhood  and  early  youth  he  had  studied 
Latin  with  a  view  of  reading  it  with  ease 
and  speaking  it  with  fluency,  and  not  with 
a  view  of  writing  stilted  prose,  trashy  hex- 
ameters, and  trashier  alcaics.  In  fact,  Latin 


106  TEETH  ON  EDGE, 

had  taken  its  part  with  other  studies  in  ren- 
dering him  an  accomplished  man,  and  had 
not  been  used  in  excess  for  the  purpose  of 
stuffing  him  into  an  useless  University- 
Prize  Pig. 

Now,  Reader,  not  to  speak  of  our  schools 
of  medicine,  do  you  think  you  could  find 
any  Englishman,  even  after  twenty  years 
spent  in  teaching  Latin,  who  could  do  with 
an  effort  what  was  done  w^ithout  an  effort 
by  this  unscholastic  Dutchman?  Or,  if  you 
could  hit  upon  such  a  native  Phoenix,  do 
you  think  he  could  gather  a  class,  not  of 
medical  students,  but  of  first-class  Tripos- 
men,  who  could  follow  him  for  half  an  hour? 

And  now.  Reader,  I  fear  I  have  tried  your 
temper  too  far.  Confess  it.  You  are  a  little 
angry  with  me.  "Do  you  mean  to  say,  a 
true  Briton  is  not  as  good  as  a  Dutchman?" 
Nay,  Reader,  nay:  I  am  as  national  as 
yourself.  In  all  departments  of  science, 
and  ii\  a  few  branches  of  polite  learning,  our 
countrymen  can  hold  their  own  against 
all  Continentalists.  But  there  is  no  doubt 
that,  in  the  familiar  handling  of  the  classic 
tongues  —  of  Latin  especially  —  we  are  far 


AND   CLOSED  LIPS.  107 

beliind  Germany,  Holland,  and  Italy.  And 
the  simple  reason  is  that  they,  to  a  certain 
extent,  follow  nature  in  their  method  of 
teaching  at  least  one  of  these  languages ; 
and  make  it,  to  some  extent,  a  living  lan- 
guage by  their  method  of  communicating 
it.  With  our  present  system  of  teaching, 
and  our  impossible  pronunciation,  any  at- 
tempt at  a  practical  use  of  the  same  lan- 
guage would  present  the  ghastly  phenome- 
non of  galvanism  upon  a  corpse. 

Is  there  any  chance  then  of  amendment 
in  our  great  public  schools?  In  those  of 
England,  I  think  there  is  none ;  in  those  of 
Scotland,  there  is  a  possibility  of  change. 

The  fact  is,  the  Reformation,  that  im- 
proved religion  in  England,  spoiled  its 
Latinity;  and  the  pedantic  dread  of  false 
quantities  has  strangled  Italian  accent.  In 
Scotland,  a  servile  imitation  of  what  is  bad 
in  English  scholarship  has  nearly  led  to  the 
extinction  of  a  music,  which,  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  present  century,  might 
have  been  heard  in  every  parish-school. 

And  now,  your  ClericO'didaskalos  of  Eng- 
land is  a  plump  and  comfortable  blackbird. 


108  TEETH  ON  EDGE, 

who,  from  over-feeding,  has  forgotten  his 
ancient  song.  His  lay-brother  of  the  North, 
however,  is  a  thrush,  who  is  kept  on  very 
wholesomely-spare  diet.  Cover  his  cage 
with  a  towel :  let  him  wait  a  while  for  his 
seed ;  and  my  goodness,  how  that  hungry 
bird  will  sing ! 


PLACE  AUX  DAMES.  109 


PLACE   AUX   DAMES. 


OuB  sex  is  incorrigible.  Eighteen  cen- 
turies of  Christianity  have  rained  upon  it 
with  no  permanently  softening  result.  We 
speak  of  the  feudal  times  as  the  dark  ages ; 
a  title  coined  by  the  after-envy  of  a  more 
logical,  but  more  vulgar  civilization.  For 
some  three  hundred  years  there  was  a  dim 
light  in  Christendom ;  and  warriors,  super- 
fluously helmeted,  with  sword  and  battle- 
axe  dinned  into  each  other's  heads  a  proper 
respect  for  the  ladies.  But  in  an  unhappy 
hour,  the  Medicis  of  Florence  made  fashion- 
able the  study  of  Greek ;  and  since  Europe 
has  taken  to  learning  and  logic,  it  has  lost 
one-half  of  its  old  fun,  and  nearly  all  its  old 
chivalry. 

Strange  to  say,  the  most  barbarous  tribes 
we  have  ever  unearthed,  seem  as  deficient 


110  PLACE  AUX  DAMES, 

in  politeness  as  the  most  civilized  and  re- 
fined of  western  nations.  But  your  bar- 
barian is,  at  all  events,  no  hypocrite.  In 
the  old  Mexican  hut,  the  unheeded  squaws 
would  in  silence  chew  the  narcotic  Aveed 
whose  subsequent  chewing  was  to  make 
their  lord  as  like  a  pig  as  alcohol  can  make 
a  Christian.  An  African  monarch  fattens 
his  mistress  out  of  all  shape ;  not,  as  trav- 
ellers say,  to  humor  a  low  sense  of  female 
beauty,  but  in  obedience  to  the  impulse  of 
a  deeply-rooted  male  jealousy.  The  Turk 
immures  his  wives  in  a  dull  Harem,  and 
feeds  them  on  sickening  sweetmeats,  in  re- 
venge for  the  loss  of  a  paradise,  that  he 
would  be  too  stupid  to  enjoy.  The  China- 
man squeezes  the  feet  of  his  women  into 
lumps  of  helplessness;  but  the  more  in- 
genious European  transfers  the  pressure  to 
the  female  brain. 

You  will  wonder.  Reader,  what  spirit  of 
impertinence  leads  me  to  meddle  with  the 
arcana  of  our  Boarding-schools.  I  am  quite 
aware  that  I  have  no  more  right  to  pry  into 
the  mysteries  of  a  lady's  education  than  into 
those  of  her    toilet.     But  I    cannot   help 


PLACE  AUX  DAMES,  HI 

hearing  what  I  hear;  seeing  what  I  see. 
In  every  street  I  pass  wonderingly  beneath 
overshadowing  domes  of  crinoline ;  and 
dainty  silken  stays  peep  out  of  the  windows 
of  that  shop  in  George  Street,  which  is,  I 
believe,  termed  a  Magasin  from  the  inflam- 
matory and  inflammable  nature  of  its  con- 
tents. In  another  shop-window  in  that 
same  street,  I  often  see  what  are  called  ob« 
JECT  CAEDS,  which  were  invented  by  some 
spiteful,  and,  of  course,  male  wretch,  for  the 
purpose  of  frittering  away  the  time  and 
intellects  of  all  subsequent  generations  of 
girldom.  To  one  of  these  cards  I  saw  at- 
tached a  small  piece  of  coal,  and  underneath 
it  was  printed  a  farrago  of  chemical  and 
other  gibberish,  which  goes  by  the  satirical 
name  of  "  useful  information."  To  another 
was  attached  a  piece  of  sponge,  too  small  to 
clean  a  slate,  but  apparently  large  enough 
to  absorb  a  whole  page  of  wishy-washy 
observations.  To  another  was  pinned  a 
butterfly's  wing.  I  am  convinced  that,  in- 
side the  shop,  I  might  have  seen  cards,  il- 
lustrative of  natural  history,  ornamented 
with  impaled  cockroaches  and  nasty  mar- 


112  PLACE  AUX  DAMES. 

tyred  earwigs.  What  do  instructors  of 
young  girls  do  with  these  cards  ?  Do  they 
read  out  loud  the  nonsense  written  under- 
neath, as  texts  for  informational  sermons  ? 
And,  in  doing  so,  can  they  retain  their 
gravity?  If  they  have  such  command  of 
facial  muscle,  O  why  do  they  waste  in  a 
school-room  those  talents  for  low  comedy, 
which  would  win  them  renown  and  fortune 
at  the  Adelphi  ? 

I  heard,  only  a  few  days  since,  that  our 
girls  were  fed  upon  Lathi  roots.  I  asked 
through  what  process  of  cookery  these  roots 
might  have  passed.  I  was  informed  that 
they  were  invariably  given  raw.  Such  indi- 
gestible food  I  knew  to  be  fit  only  for  pigs. 
And  my  blood  boiled  within  me,  to  think 
that  such  should  be  the  dewless  nurture  of 
the  sweet  acorn-cups  of  future  womanhood  ; 
the  pretty  embryo-possibilities  of  mater- 
nity ;  that  such  copper-handling  should  be 
made  of  the  silver  pieces  of  small  change, 
whose  universality  makes  the  golden  guinea 
of  a  Madonna. 

Then,  again,  I  have  heard  of  globes, 
whose  use  is  taught  in  secret.     I  wonder 


PLACE  AUX  DAMES.  113 

hoiv  they  use  them.  Do  they  roll  them  up 
and  down  their  schoolrooms  ?  or  toss  them 
up,  to  catch  them  in  gigantic  cups?  or,  more 
gracefully  than  acrobats  in  the  Circus,  pat- 
ter them  with  pretty  feet  up  and  down  in- 
clined planes? 

But,  my  little  lady-reader,  if  you  have 
mysteries  in  your  Boarding-school,  so  has 
your  brother  at  Rugby,  and  your  cousin  who 
is  preparing  for  examination  at  the  Horse 
Guards.  The  former  is  improving  into 
Alcaics  the  aphorisms  of  Tupper :  the  latter 
is  gathering  universal  history  from  the  pic- 
tured page  of  a  Chepmell.  O  little  Reader, 
did  you  ever  study  the  work  of  this  great 
historian  ?  I  wish  I  had  a  portrait  of  him. 
I  should  hang  it  over  my  mantel-piece  in  an 
inverted  position  ;  which  position  I  should 
alter  to  the  natural  one,  so  soon  as  I  should 
fall  in  with  one  individual  who  could  make 
head  or  tail  of  his  cui-earthly-bono  writings. 

Music  is  supposed  to  be  a  sine  qua  non  in 
the  education  of  all  girls.  The  boarding- 
schools  of  Dunedin  are  allowed  a  very  high 
position  in  the  field  of  feminine  didactics ; 
for  Dunedin  is  the  intellectual  capital  of  an 


114  PLACE  AUX  DAMES. 

education-loving  kingdom.  In  one  of  our 
very  fashionable  and  aristocratic  schools 
you  will  see  a  music-master,  in  the  course 
of  three  hours,  pass  fifteen  little  strumming 
maidens  through  his  hands.  He  gives  this 
lesson,  of  superintendence  it  is  called,  once 
a  Aveek.  In  another  still  more  fashionable 
school  this  electric-telegraph  superintend- 
ence is  given  once  a  fortnight.  In  twelve 
minutes  the  master  has  to  hear  an  old  lesson 
played,  to  settle  the  piece  for  the  next  les- 
son, to  write  a  good  or  bad  mark  in  a  note- 
book, and  occasionally  to  take  a  pinch  of 
snuff,  or  blow  his  weary  nose.  The  little 
pupil,  in  the  latter  school,  has  about  eleven 
minutes  of  male-supervision  in  the  course 
of  a  fortnight;  which  would  give  fifty-five 
seconds  per  diem,  if  the  work  were  dis- 
tributed over  all  the  week-days.  Have 
these  music-masters  never  heard  of  Rich- 
ardson's Theatre,  where  a  tragedy,  a  com- 
edy, and  a  comic  song  are  all  enacted  within 
the  limits  of  their  perspiring  lessons  ? 

May  not  this  electric-telegraph  system 
of  musical  instruction  explain  the  general 
shallowness  of  our   drawing-room   music? 


PLACE  AUX  DAMES,  115 

The  fault  can  hardly  be  in  the  brains  or 
fingers  of  our  girls,  for  they  came  of  a  race 
that  has  produced  the  most  exquisite  ballad- 
system  and  the  best  collection  of  love-songs 
in  all  Europe.  Some  thousands  of  our  girls 
are  studying  music  year  by  year;  j^et  for 
every  girl-musician  in  Dunedin  you  would 
find  thirty  in  less  populous  Brussels,  and 
ten  in  insignificant  Bruges.  And  what  are 
Belgian  girls  to  the  girls  of  Scotland? 

Modern  languages  are  taught  at  all 
schools  to  all  pupils.  How  often.  Reader, 
have  you  met  with  a  girl  of  fifteen  who 
could  write  French  correctly,  or  speak  it 
with  a  good  accent;  although  she  might 
have  studied  the  language  for  four  years  at 
a  flourishing  school  ?  This  is  not  the  fault 
of  our  girls:  the  cause  lies  deeper.  Our 
boarding-schools  are  too  often  mere  busi- 
ness speculations,  whose  proprietors  have  as 
much  real  interest  in  the  mental  culture  of 
their  charges  as  a  hotel-keeper  in  the  spir- 
itual welfare  of  his  guests :  men  of  talent 
are  often  employed  by  them  in  work  degrad- 
ing to  themselves  and  useless  to  their 
pupils ;  and  very  often  sharp  and  ready  fel- 


116  PLACE  AUX  DAMES. 

lows  are  employed,  that  never  received  the 
education  of  gentlemen,  and  were  never 
intended  to  address  a  lady  without  the  inter- 
vention of  a  counter.  If  a  system  is  vulgar 
that  employs  incompetency,  that  sweats  and 
underpays  talent ;  is  there  no  vulgarity  in 
those  patrons  whose  call  for  cheap  teaching 
is  the  source  of  all  the  mischief?  What  do 
we  want  with  your  fine  musicians  and  over- 
educated  scholars  ?  Give  us  teaching-stuff 
that  will  stand  wear  and  tear;  catgut 
nerves  and  gutta-percha  brains ! 

Your  German  master  is  often  a  man  of 
learning,  and  is  always  well  educated :  your 
French  master  of  the  old  school  was  a  man 
of  elegant  accomplishments  and  a  preux 
chevalier  ;  but  the  manners  of  France  appear 
to  have  degenerated  under  the  ell-wand  of 
a  Shop-king,  and  the  spurred  boot  of  a 
Barrack-emperor. 

Italian — beautiful,  musical,  classic  Italian 
—  is,  alas  !  not  very  generally  appreciated, 
although  its  teachers  are  usually  men  of  a 
high  caste.  Not  long  ago,  a  royal  Prince 
at  Holyrood  read,  for  a  while,  Italian  with 
an  accomplished   soldier   and   gentleman; 


PLACE  AUX  DAMES.  117 

and  this  circumstance  raised  in  the  estima- 
tion of  our  citizens  the  language  of  Dante, 
Ariosto,  Tasso,  and  Alfieri.  What  a  good 
thing  it  would  be  if  we  were  honored  with 
a  mere  udix)lov  of  royality  in  the  old  palace, 
whose  shadowy  Highness  might  be  repre- 
sented as  patronizing,  from  time  to  time, 
such  accomplishments  as  we  seemed  in 
danger  of  forgetting !  And  it  would  not 
be  a  change  to  be  deplored,  if  we  could 
hear  more  music  from  the  Italian  nightin- 
gale, and  a  trifle  less  of  chatter  from  the 
magpie  of  France. 

But  after  all,  modern  languages  should 
be  taught  practically  and  conversationally. 
The  only  grammar  taught  to  girls  below 
the  age  of  twelve  should  be  that  of  their 
own  language ;  and  its  terms  should  be 
made  as  plain  and  intelligible  as  possible. 
Perhaps  no  subject  is  better  taught  than 
this  latter  one  in  our  schools.  But  to  girls 
of  superior  intelligence,  even  English  is  not 
the  language  upon  which  to  found  general 
and  comprehensive  ideas  of  grammar,  such 
as  may  facilitate  the  after-acquisition  of 
any  modern  language.     You  would  never 


118  PLACE  AUX  DAMES. 

inculcate  ideas  of  filial  duty  on  a  child,  by 
continually  obtruding  upon  him  impertinent 
mention  of  his  own  parents.  You  would 
tell  him.  amusing  and  instructive  stories  of 
other  children  and  other  parents.  Even  so 
with  grammar. 

In  the  education  of  boys,  it  has  been 
agreed,  perhaps  truly,  that  Latin  is  the  best 
instrument  for  inculcating  the  general  laws 
of  language.  Are  there  genders  in  educa- 
tional systems,  like  as  in  Latin  or  French 
nouns?  Is  there  anything  in  Latin  gram- 
mar peculiarly  male  ?  How  did  they  talk 
at  dinner-time  in  ancient  Rome  ?  Did  the 
men  speak  only  masculine  nouns ;  the  ladies, 
feminine  ones;  and  the  servants,  common 
ones  ?  We  have  no  warrant  for  such  a  con- 
clusion. I  believe  the  Latin  language  to 
have  been,  and  still  to  be,  incapable  of  such 
partitioning.  It  is  not  of  the  masculine 
gender ;  nor  of  the  feminine ;  nor  of  the 
neuter  or  neither ;  but,  like  other  languages, 
of  the  either  gender.  And,  if  properly  taught, 
it  would  be  found  a  far  easier  language  than 
German ;  considerably  easier  than  French ; 
and  a  little  easier  in  its  old  form  than  in 


PLACE  AUX  DAMES.  119 

its  slightly  altered  form  of  modern  Italian, 
wliich  is  very  easy  indeed. 

Heaven  forbid  that  our  girls  should  be 
taught  Latin  with  the  grammars  now  in  use, 
and  those  annotated  books,  that  may  help 
an  incompetent  master  over  an  occasional 
stile,  but  can  only  enervate  a  pupil's  brain, 
and  transfer  coin  from  the  pocket  of  an 
exasperated  parent  to  the  pocket  of  an  un- 
deserving publisher. 

I  assert  that  a  good  Latin  grammar  might 
be  limited  to  twenty-four  pages,  and  sold, 
with  a  large  profit,  for  sixpence ;  and  that 
this  bookling,  with  an  extra  outlay  of  half- 
a-crown,  might,  with  a  competent  master, 
carry  scholars  over  two  years  of  work.  And 
I  also  assert  that  girls  might,  with  great  ad- 
vantage, pass  through  two  or  even  three 
years  of  Latin  teaching,  if  that  language  were 
taught  on  an  easy,  simple,  and  natural 
method. 

Although  a  schoolmaster  of  boys.  Reader, 
I  have  still  a  touch  of  gallantry.  Smile  at 
my  proposal.  I  would  undertake  to  teach 
Latin  to  a  class  of  girls  twelve  years  of  age, 
without  the  use  of  pedantic  and  expensive 
books,  or  of  pedantic  and  meaningless  gram- 


120  PLACE  AUX  DAMES. 

mar  rules.  My  pronunciation  would  be 
Italian,  as  nearly  Tuscan  as  I  could  make 
it.  I  would  never  forget  that  I  was  train- 
ing children,  not  to  be  school-mistresses, 
but  gentle  ladies  in  a  drawing-room,  and 
gentler  mothers  in  a  nursery.  I  would  so 
teach  a  young  class,  that  if  a  master  of  a 
great  English  school  were  to  interrupt  us 
in  our  work,  he  would  say:  "Ah!  they  are 
engaged  in  a  lesson  of  trumpery  Italian." 
And  I  would,  perhaps,  mildly  quiz  him  to 
my  pupils  in  correct  Latinity,  which,  from 
being  rapidly  and  musically  spoken,  he 
would  not  understand.  And  in  two  years, 
perhaps ;  and  in  three  years,  most  certainly  • 
I  would  have  girls  on  my  class,  who  would 
speak  an  old  language,  not  unlike  the  lan- 
guage of  modern  Tuscany,  in  a  way  that 
would  shame  their  brothers  and  cousins, 
who  had  been  five  years  at  any  grammar- 
school  in  the  kingdom,  and  trained  on  the 
old  system  of  Elementary  Unintelligibility. 
And  I  would  teach  them  Latin  in  such  a 
way,  that  very  soon  they  would  read  a  par- 
able in  either  Italian  or  Spanish  without 
stumbling  over  either  word  or  construction. 
And  I  would  engage  to  say  that  my  pupils 


PLACE  J4OC  DAUE§,  J  121 

'     CALIFOR^ 
would  like  their  work,  ana  would  not  dis- 
like their  master. 

And  consider  the  collateral  effects  of  so 
bracing  and  healthful  an  education  of  our 
girls.  Boy-classics  would  be  forced,  in  em- 
ulation, to  dispense  with  much  of  their  dull 
pedantry:  and  youths  would  be  ashamed 
to  continue  ignorant  of  modern  tongues 
that  their  sisters  spoke  with  elegance  and 
ease.  We  have  now  a  smattering  of  youths 
that  cram  reluctantly  some  knowledge  of 
French,  German,  Italian,  or  Spanish,  to  win 
marks  in  our  Chinese  examinations.  What 
a  vulgar  and  profane  usage  of  the  dialects 
of  Corneille,  Goethe,  Dante,  and  Cervantes ! 

But,  Reader,  you  are  alarmed.  You  are 
afraid  that  such  a  system  would  make  Blue- 
stockings of  our  girls.  Prejudice,  Reader : 
unmanly,  unchivalrous  prejudice.  The 
ladies  of  the  Russian  noblesse  can  speak  al- 
most every  language  of  Europe ;  but  they 
are  exquisitely  feminine.  My  brother  sat 
for  a  week  opposite  a  fair  creature  at  a  ta- 
hle-d'hdte  in  Venice;  and  perhaps  he  never 
eat  less,  or  enjoyed  dinner  more,  for  a  week 
together.  He  heard  her  speak  all  the  lan- 
guages he  knew;  and  some  that  he  did  not 


122  PLACE  AUX  DAMES. 

know.  But  for  her  linguistic  powers,  he 
would  have  taken  her  for  an  English  girl, 
from  her  English  accent  and  her  blonde 
beauty.  Of  course,  she  was  a  Russian. 
She  had  no  appearance  of  the  Blue.  If 
she  was  one;  then  I  could  wish  that  all 
were  even  as  that  sweet,  young,  blue-eyed 
polyglot.  'Twas  a  lucky  fellow,  I  should 
think,  that  caught  that  little  Tartar. 

Do,  Reader,  disabuse  your  reasonable 
mind  of  unreasonable  crotchets.  Women 
have  just  as  keen  intelligence  as  men;  less 
powers,  maybe,  of  abstract  reasoning;  but 
far  finer  perceptive  and  linguistic  faculties. 
They  need  not  be  trained  to  exhaustive 
scholarship;  but  refinement  of  mental  cul- 
ture suits  them,  perhaps,  even  more  than  it 
does  our  own  sex. 

I  imagine  that  the  Lady  Jane,  who  read 
her  Phsedo  when  the  horn  was  calling,  had 
as  pretty  a  mouse-face  as  you  ever  saw  in  a 
dream ;  and  I  am  sure  that  gentle  girl  was  a 
better  scholar  than  any  lad  of  seventeen  is 
now  in  any  school  of  England  or  Scotland. 

And  once  upon  a  time.  Reader  —  a  long, 
long  while  ago  —  I  knew  a  schoolmaster 
and  that  schoolmaster  had   a  wife.     And 


PLACE  AUX  DAMES.  123 

she  was  young,  and  fair,  and  learned ;  like 
that  princess-pupil  of  old  Ascham;  fair 
and  learned  as  Sydney's  sister,  Pembroke's 
mother.  And  her  voice  was  ever  soft,  gen- 
tle, and  low.  Reader :  an  excellent  thing  in 
woman.  And  her  fingers  were  quick  at 
needlework,  and  nimble  in  all  a  housewife's 
cunning.  And  she  could  draw  sweet  music 
from  the  ivory  board ;  and  sweeter,  stranger 
music  from  the  dull  life  of  her  schoohnaster- 
husband.  And  she  was  slow  of  heart  to  un- 
derstand mischief,  but  her  feet  ran  swift  to 
do  good.  And  she  was  simple  with  the  sim- 
plicity of  girlhood,  and  wise  with  the  wis- 
dom that  Cometh  only  of  the  Lord, — cometh 
only  to  the  children  of  the  Kingdom.  And 
her  sweet,  young  life  was  as  a  Morning 
Hymn,  sung  by  child-voices  to  rich  organ- 
music.  Time  shall  throw  his  dart  at  Death, 
ere  Death  has  slain  such  another. 

For  she  died.  Reader :  a  long,  long  while 
ago.  And  I  stood  once  by  her  grave ;  her 
green  grave,  not  far  from  dear  Dunedin. 
Died,  Reader:  for  all  she  was  so  fair  and 
young,  and  learned,  and  simple,  and  good. 
And  I  am  told  it  made  a  great  difference  to 
that  schoolmaster. 


124  SOLAR  SPECKS, 


XI. 

SOLAR    SPECKS. 

During  the  last  Summer  Vacations,  I 
devoted  ten  weeks  to  the  sedulous  and  un- 
interrupted study  of  Homer.  I  had  repeat- 
edly read  both  Iliad  and  Odyssey,  but  usu- 
ally in  detached  books,  with  an  intermixture 
of  other  work,  or  in  places  where  I  knew  at 
least  one  living  soul.  I  now  gave  literally 
my  whole  thoughts  and  attention  to  the 
rhythm  and  story  of  these  splendid  poems, 
fondly  imagining  I  might  solve  to  my  own 
satisfaction  some  of  the  many  riddles  they 
held  involved. 

It  was  not  so  much  from  the  then  unsat- 
isfactory condition  of  my  health,  as  from  a 
general  conviction,  founded  upon  observa- 
tion and  tables  of  statistics,  of  the  ridiculous 
brevity  of  human  life,  that  I  refrained  from 
the  use  of  German  commentaries.     I  was 


SOLAR  SPECKS.  125 

also  impressed  with  the  idea  that  Homer 
could  only  be  explained  by  Homer;  that 
the  answer  to  the  riddle  was  to  be  found 
latent  in  the  question.  And  I  felt  thankful 
that  I  had  never  read  any  tediously-learned 
book,  in  my  own  or  any  other  language, 
that  could  warp  my  views  or  muddle  my 
conceptions. 

I  need  hardly  say,  that  I  did  not  read  these 
poems  according  to  the  ordinary  principles 
of  scansion.  Such  a  continuous  narcotic 
would  have  been  dangerous  to  my  physical 
health,  and  would  have  kept  me  dormant 
through  two  of  the  finest  months  we  have 
had  for  years.  I  contrived,  to  my  own  satis- 
faction, to  combine  the  rules  of  metre  with 
those  of  accent ;  and  in  my  pronunciation 
of  the  words  where  the  vowel-sounds  of  mod- 
ern Greek  seemed  thin,  I  adopted  without 
hesitation  the  richer  vowel-music  of  Italy. 

I  may  as  well  premise  that,  as  I  read  for 
my  own  selfish  amusement,  I  did  not  hold 
myself  bound  to  any  code  of  laws,  metrical 
or  accentual.  Thus  when  the  old  gram- 
marians accentuated  av^i^Mnov  on  the  first 
syllable,  and  av^QCJicovg  or  av^^MTCOvc,  on 


126  SOLAR  SPECKS. 

the  second,  I  disagreed  \;\^ith  them,  and  ac- 
centuated both  words  alike  on  the  first  syl- 
lable, in  defiance  of  all  authority,  ancient  or 
modern.  And  I  argued  thus :  If  the  mere 
addition  of  a  plural  s  were  to  modify  the 
accent  of  a  word,  then  such  a  word  as  milites 
or  militems  might  be  expected  to  be  other- 
wise accentuated  t\\?inmilitem ;  which  would 
seem  absurd :  and  whilst  we  say  mdnnikin^ 
whirligig^  cdckle-shell^  we  might  expect  to 
find  mannikins^  whirligigs^  cocklS-shells ; 
which  would  he  very  absurd  indeed. 

Of  course,  I  should  not  be  so  peremptory 
in  dealing  with  such  words  as  av^i)ix)noVy 
av6i)(x)n([\  for  in  the  last  syllable  of  these 
words  are  latent  two  distinct  vowel  sounds ; 
and  the  words  may  have  once  been  of  the 
forms,  avi^()W7iotXQ,  av^QMnol'v ;  or  some- 
thing of  the  kind.  Even  in  these  words, 
however,  I  am  inclined  to  be  a  little  skepti- 
cal. At  all  events,  I  should  never  speak  of 
a  deficiency  of  dpples  in  an  apple-pie;  or  of 
cleaning  my  chimney  with  a  little  chimney- 


From  these  and   similar  considerations, 
while   I   followed  the  received  rules   for 


SOLAR  SPECKS.  127 

accentuation  to  a  very  great  extent,  I  ven- 
tured to  contravene  them  on  those  not  rare 
occasions,  when  they  seemed  to  me  intrin- 
sically ridiculous.  And  in  these  cases,  it 
appeared  to  me  that  the  old  grammarians 
having  laid  down  laws  of  accentuation  that 
were  generally  true,  adhered  rigidly  to  them 
on  all  occasions;  forgetting  the  wise  saying, 
that  must  have  been  old  even  in  their  day, 
that  tJiere  is  no  rule  without  an  exception. 

During  the  course  of  my  reading,  I  trans- 
lated, for  the  first  time  in  my  life.,  some  pas- 
sages of  English  verse  into  Greek  hexa- 
meters. I  shall  append  them  to  the  present 
article,  by  way  of  substantiating  an  asser- 
tion already  made,  that  an  enthusiastic  stu- 
dent will  fall  naturally  into  an  imitation  of 
a  favorite  author,  without  the  help  or  an- 
noyance of  years  of  specific  training.  Should 
they  be  considered  as  inferior  in  kind,  the 
most  inveterate  opposer  of  school-reform 
will  give  me  credit  for  frankness  in  submit- 
ting my  arguments  and  their  proofs,  to  his 
logic  for  refutation,  and  to  his  scholarship 
for  suggestions  of  improvement. 

Meanwhile,  I  was  heaping  up  a  pyramid 


128  SOLAR  SPECKS. 

of  laborious  notes.  I  had  classified  the 
words  that  occur  once  or  twice  or  thrice  in 
the  two  poems;  innumerable  instances  of 
irregularity  in  tense  and  mood;  natural 
confusions  of  number  and  construction ;  the 
recurrences  of  special  cadence  in  metre  with 
a  view  of  discovering  the  tune  or  tunes  of 
the  old  Singers;  the  names  of  mountains 
and  rivers,  with  a  view  of  tracing  Celtic 
synonyms;  the  similes,  with  the  vain  hope 
of  bounding  the  scope  of  the  poet's  imagin- 
ative experience ;  the  description  of  wounds, 
with  the  view  of  defining  his  knowledge  of 
anatomy ;  peculiarities  in  the  collocation  of 
words,  with  the  view  of  tracing  the  extent 
of  his  artificiality;  irregularities  of  case- 
ending,  which,  commencing  with  the  noun, 
would  naturally  extend  to  its  imitators,  the 
adjective  and  participle ;  and  innumerable 
instances  of  verbal  forms,  which  grammars 
and  lexicons  call  passive,  but  whose  reflec- 
tive meaning  may  be  thoroughly  and  idiom- 
atically rendered  by  the  Saxon  auxiliary  ^g^. 
These  notes  cost  me  two  months  of  hard 
w^ork  to  write,  and  three  subsequent  months 
of  moderate  work  to  arrange  in  order. 


SOLAR  SPECKS.  129 

But  O  the  vanity  of  human  toil!  My 
fondest  and  my  most  humble  hope  is,  that 
my  boy  may  one  day  be  a  schohir,  and  a 
devout  and  enthusiastic  student  of  the 
poet  whose  poetry  to  me  is  only  equalled  by 
the  music  of  Mozart  and  Beethoven.  And, 
behold,'  I  was  preparing  a  dull,  ponderous 
boob,  which  he  might  hereafter  consider  it 
a  pious  duty  to  peruse  ;  and  which  might 
possibly  throw  a  dulness  not  their  own  into 
the  works  they  were  tediously  illustrating. 
Furthermore,  I  called  to  mind  how  the  read- 
ing of  such  annotations  had  transformed 
many  a  healthy  scholar  into  a  dreary  ped- 
ant ;  and  how  the  writing  of  the  same  had 
turned  many  a  pedant  into  a  Bishop.  And 
I  trembled  for  the  safety  of  my  own  lay- 
estate;  and  saw  the  risk  I  was  running 
of  being  ordained  without  a  word  of  warn- 
ing, and  of  being  hurried  away,  unpre- 
pared, into  the  House  of  Lords,  to  preside, 
as  a  father  in  God,  over  a  gigantic  church- 
establishment,  and,  as  a  temporal  peer,  over 
the  destinies  of  a  great  nation.  I  deter- 
mined, therefore,  to  conceal  my  perilous 
intimacy  with  heathen  particles  and  metres, 


130  SOLAR  SPECKS, 

yial  Xav&avtiv  ' Elh^vio^dg.  Accordingly, 
I  surrendered  my  note-bundles  to  my  good 
landlady;  who,  unwittingly,  for  a  week  past, 
has,  in  kindling  her  kitchen  fire,  been  ex- 
tinguishing my  first  and  last  chance  of  a 
book-stall  immortality. 

With  regard  to  the  main  subject  of  the 
Iliad,  I  was  convinced  that  it  was  the  glory 
of  Troy,  and  that  Hector  was  the  real  hero 
of  an  Ionian  poet's  fancy.  The  commence- 
ment of  the  first  book  seemed  to  me  worded 
with  an  exquisite  artfulness,  with  the  view 
of  throwing  the  reader  off  his  guard.  As 
Ilium  did  fall,  it  was  requisite  for  the  poet 
to  make  it  fall  without  honor  to  the  victors. 
One  of  the  latter  is  therefore  selected  as  the 
type  of  beauty,  strength,  and  passion ;  the 
undeserving  favorite  of  unreasoning  For- 
tune and  partial  gods.  He  is  kept  out  of 
view  for  a  very  long  while,  to  give  his  col- 
leagues the  opportunity  of  showing  them- 
selves inferior  to  the  real  hero.  The  absence 
is  due  to  a  prolonged  sulkiness,  occasioned 
by  the  loss  of  a  feminine  companion,  to 
whom  he  does  not  appear  to  have  been 
chivalrously  attached.      He    might    have 


SOLAR  SPECKS.  131 

caught  the  measles  from  Thersites,  had  the 
tale  been  told  in  prose.  It  would  have 
served  him  right ;  and  have  answered  effec- 
tually the  purpose  of  the  story.  He  is 
eventually  roused  to  action  by  the  death 
of  his  friend,  who,  at  the  close  of  a  sum- 
mer's day,  after  the  slaughter  of  some 
scores  of  Trojans,  falls,  as  is  not  unusual 
with  warriors,  on  the  field  of  battle.  The 
mock-hero  is  as  brutal  in  avenging  his  com- 
panion, as  though  Hector  had  murdered 
him  at  a  banquet,  and  Hecuba  had  served 
him  up  at  supper  as  a  dainty  dish  before 
old  Priam. 

The  magnificent  description  of  the  He- 
phsestian  arms  all  tends  to  glorify  the  hero 
against  whom  they  were  forged,  and  to  de- 
tract from  the  credit  of  the  wearer.  The 
deceit  of  Athene  in  the  final  combat  puts 
the  extinguisher  upon  the  glory  of  Achilles, 
and  makes  a  splendid  martyr  of  his  antag- 
onist. And  the  whole  poem  closes  simply 
and  majestically,  like  a  funeral  march  of 
Beethoven:  "  So  bare  they  knightly  Hector 
to  his  grave ; "  the  kindest  husband  that 
ever   loved   and  honored   wife;   the  most 


132  SOLAR  SPECKS, 

courteous  gentleman  that  ever  spake  softly 
to  fair  and  frail  lady ;  the  tenderest  father 
that  ever  dandled  boy-baby ;  and  the  stern- 
est knight  that  ever  struck  with  sword 
round  Ilium. 

While  in  the  Iliad  the  master-hand  had 
wrought  a  variety  of  war-songs  into  one 
long,  homogeneous  recitative,  I  saw  that 
in  the  Odyssey  he  had  had  to  deal  with 
subject-matter  more  homely  and  less  con- 
gruous. Some  quaint  old  Bunyans  had  in 
earliest  times  quaffed  the  cup  of  Circe  on 
the  island  of  ^sea.  And  mariners,  Ionian 
and  Phoenician,  by  winter  fires  had  spun 
yarns  for  the  great  Weaver  to  incorporate 
in  his  imperishable  web.  And  he,  who  in 
his  old  age  drew  from  music  a  solace  for 
light  denied,  had  in  earlier  manhood  been 
a  bright-eyed  sailor ;  had  in  Tyre  seen  the 
works  of  cunning  sons  of  Moloch;  had 
heard  upon  the  Nile  of  the  hundred-gated 
Thebes,  and  the  gloomy  River,  and  the  land 
of  Shadow^s.  But  not  in  Italy  had  he  seen 
the  cannibal  Laestrygons;  nor  in  Sicily 
great  Polypheme.  This  latter  worthy  was 
never  suggested  by  Tauric  Sun-god,  with 


SOLAR  SPECKS.  133 

metal  disc  upon  liis  head.  No:  the  poet 
had  heard  all  about  him  in  his  childhood 
from  his  dear  old  grandmother.  And, 
Reader,  we  have  all  seen  him  in  our  nur- 
series, where  he  is  still  at  his  old  work  of 
crunching  men's  bones.  For  Polypheme  is 
but  a  Cyclops;  and  a  Cyclops  is  but  a 
KmXwt, ;  and  a  Kyklo-oks  is  nothing  but 
our  old  friend.  Goggle-eyes. 

The  reason  why  the  Odyssey  had,  in 
course  of  time,  triumphed  over  other  poems 
that  sang  the  return  of  other  heroes,  was 
firstly  due  to  the  fact  that  a  type  of  charac- 
ter was  wanted  to  illustrate  other  qualities 
than  pride,  obstinacy,  and  physical  courage ; 
a  type  around  which  might  naturally  cluster 
all  that  was  beautiful,  serious,  pleasant  or 
ridiculous  in  oommon  life;  a  type  of  the 
roving,  adventurous,  cunning  island-rover, 
to  contrast  vividly  with  the  somewhat 
monotonous  mailed  heroes  of  the  LaT/  of 
Grreat  Hector^  or  the  Lays  of  the  Achcean 
Kings.  Again,  Ithaca  was  at  a  more  con- 
venient distance  from  Troy  than  Salamis, 
or  Agros,  or  Pylos,  or  Lacedsemon.  Had 
the  poet  selected  the  Telamonian  Ajax  in 


134 


SOLAR  SPECKS, 


preference  to  Ulysses,  a  premature  gale  or 
his  own  piglieadedness,  might  have  hurried 
the  hero  into  port  at  the  opening  of  the 
second  book. 

After  diligent  and  mature  consideration 
of  the  metre,  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
it  belonged  to  i\\Q  genus  vertehratum ;  that 
the  spine  was  Saturnian,  and  the  vertebrae 
trochees ;  that  in  the  old  Italian  hymn  of 
the  Salian  priests  we  have  the  almost 
amorphous  form  that,  on  the  sea-board  of 
Ionia,  had  developed  into  the  Homeric  epic. 
The  first  rude  hymns  and  ballads  would 
probably  run  to  the  following  simple  metre: 


-KJ  KJ 

A 


—  \J 

—  KJ 

—  V-^ 

—  \j 

—  KJ\J 

_  _ 

—  w  v-» 

—  \j\j 

A 

A 

A 

\j  —  \j 

\j  —  \j 

V/  —  VJ 

and  it  is  a  singular  coincidence  that  the  old 
Salii  should  have  perambulated  the  streets 
of  Rome,  with  the  sacred  shields,  dancing 
to  their  hymn  of 

-^no'  Las  |  os  ju  |  vato.  1|  Triumpe  !  |  Triumpe  !  |  Triumpe  ! 

to  a  metre,  and  perhaps  a  music,  not  dis- 
similar to   that  of  the  Methodist's  sweet 


SOLAR  SPECKS.  135 

simple  lines,  the  simplicity  of  which  verges 
on  the  ridicnlous : 

O  but  I  that  will  be  I  joyful  H    joyful     |  joy-y-ful  |  joyful, 

O  but  I  that  will  be  |  joyful  1|  when  we  |  meet   to  |  part  no 
more. 

Indeed,  it  occurred  to  me  that  all  poetry- 
must  resolve  itself  eventually  into  a  system 
of  trochees  or  iambi ;  which  feet  are  easily 
interchangeable  by  a  change  of  syllabic 
emphasis.  However,  I  felt  convinced  that, 
in  the  Arian  languages,  the  trochee  em- 
phasis would  prevail,  while  a  dialect  pre- 
served its  rich  vowel  inflexions;  that  the 
iambic  emphasis  would  creep  in,  as  a  dia- 
lect began  to  use  contracted  endings ;  and 
would,  finally,  be  predominant,  when  the 
dialect  should  take  to  the  use  of  prefixes 
and  the  disuse  of  vowel  endings.  Conse- 
quently, I  was  not  surprised  to  find  the 
iambus  in  the  Attic  drama  and  Teutonic 
modern  epic ;  and  the  trochee  dominant  in 
Dante,  whose  dialect  has  lost,  indeed,  its 
case-affixes,  but  conserved  its  sweet  vowel 
terminations. 

Now,  in  the  skeleton  metre  above  given, 
a  continuous  sequence  of  trochees  over  a 


136  SOLAR  SPECKS. 

long  poem  would  be  next  to  impossible ; 
and,  if  possible,  would  be  very  unmusical. 
The  dactyl  would  seem  to  me  the  natural 
efflorescence  of  the  trochee  ;  as  the  anapsest 
of  the  iambus.  All  metres  of  a  ballad 
kind  might  be  expected  to  show  something 
answering  to  a  refrain,  or  something  anal- 
ogous to  our  rhyme.  I  shall  consequently 
expect  to  find  in  the  above  a  dactyl  towards 
the  close  of  the  line ;  not  at  the  very  end, 
as  the  effect  would  be  jerky,  and  unsug- 
gestive  of  repose ;  and  not  too  far  from  the 
end,  or  else  the  echo  would  be  lost.  And 
this  consideration  explains  to  me  the  almost 
invariable  presence  of  the  dactyl  in  the  fifth 
foot. 

As  for  the  spondees  that  occur,  I  hold 
that  the  majority  of  them  were  accentuated 
or  read  as  trochees.  They  certainly  would 
conduce  to  give  variety  to  the  metre,  and 
at  times  to  introduce  a  purposed  stateliness 
and  majesty.  Very  often  they  would  in- 
trude as  the  children  of  necessity. 

From  the  extreme  perfection  of  the  metre 
in  the  two  poems,  and  the  extreme  inaccuracy 
in  the  use  of  conditional  and  duhitative  moods^ 


SOLAR  SPECKS.  137 

it  is  obvious  that  the  poems  were  brought  to 
a  completion  in  an  age  of  high  civilization. 

Furthermore,  we  may  guage  the  civiliza- 
tion of  a  poet  by  the  use  of  the  adverb,  as 
we  test  that  of  a  lady  by  the  handling  of  a 
fork.  For,  as  a  musician  once  remarked  to 
me,  the  adverb  is  the  index  of  mental  re- 
finement. It  is  a  Nilometer  of  rising  taste. 
Your  Helot  has  but  a  limited  store  of  ad- 
verbs, but  they  are  cayenne-ish,  superlative. 
In  a  very  simple  and  early  ballad  the  ad- 
verb would  scarcely  appear  at  all.  In 
Homer,  it  varies  through  chiaro  to  chiar^- 
oscuro^  and  again  to  chiaro :  no  oscuro  or 
oscurissimo  ;  for  only  an  indifferent  painter 
would  heighten  a  contrast  by  the  vulgar  use 
of  black.  If  the  poetry  of  Homer  is  simple 
and  primitive,  then,  maybe,  painting  at  one 
stride  achieved  the  Madonnas  of  Raffaelle 
and  the  sunsets  of  Claude. 

To  me  the  Iliad  appears  a  congeries  of 
warlike  lays,  grouped  by  the  artifice  of  a 
most  simple  plot  into  a  homogeneous  story. 
The  lays  were  in  a  rude  Saturnian  metre, 
and  adapted  for  singing.  The  story  is  told 
in  a  stately  but  ever-varying  measure,  that 


138  SOLAR  SPECKS. 

flows  in  a  majestic  recitative.  The  Odyssey 
seems  to  have  stolen  from  all  possible 
sources ;  allegory,  travellers'  tales,  and  nur- 
sery-lore. The  story  is  not  homogeneous, 
but  kaleidoscopic ;  as  the  story  should  have 
been  that  was  destined  to  give  birth  to  Jack 
the  Giant  Killer  and  Sinbad  the  Sailor;  to 
lend  grace  to  the  jEneid,  and  majesty  to 
Paradise  Lost. 

In  both  the  poems,  with  more  especial 
care  in  the  Iliad,  the  primitive  trochee  sys- 
tem is  modulated  into  the  richer  music  of 
intermixed  spondees  and  dactyls.  For  a 
long  while  the  trochee  would  be  found 
scattered  through  the  metre,  where  of  yore 
he  was  predominant;  but  at  length  he 
would  fade  away  like  a  Red  Indian  before 
his  stalwart  supplanters.  I  am  convinced, 
however,  that  a  great  many  of  the  super- 
fluous monosyllabic  appendages,  as  tc  and 
yg,  are  due  to  scribes,  who  carried  on  a  war 
of  extermination  against  the  remnant  of  the 
old  Trochees.  .  I  wish  the  Trochees  had 
risen  with  a  war-whoop  and  scalped  them 
by  the  dozen. 

Again ;  I  am  led  to  consider  the  Homeric 


SOLAR  SPECKS.  139 

poems  as  the  production  of  a  high  civiliza- 
tion, from  the  fact  that  they  admit  of  an 
abnormal  position  of  words,  as  evinced, 
chiefly,  in  the  unnatural  separation  of  epi- 
thet and  noun.  As  this  license,  however, 
is  but  sparingly/  used,  I  infer  that  the  metre 
of  the  poem  was  the  gradual  growth  of 
an  autochthonous  system  of  versification. 
Thus,  in  a  highly  finished  poem  like  the 
sixth  book  of  the  Iliad,  I  only  find  in  five 
hundred  and  twenty  lines  about  thirty  in- 
stances where  the  position  of  words  is  ques- 
tionable ;  and  no  instance  where  the  posi- 
tion is  very  distorted. 

But  when  I  come  to  the  examination  of 
the  chief  Roman  poems,  I  find  thirty  in- 
stances of  false  position  in  the  first  eighty- 
eight  lines  of  Lucretius ;  in  the  first  fifty- 
one  lines  of  the  first  book  of  the  iEneid ;  in 
the  first  sixty-four  lines  of  the  second  book 
of  Ovid's  Metamorphoses ;  and  in  the  first 
seventy-four  lines  of  the  second  epistle  of 
the  second  book  of  Horace ;  in  none  of 
which  cases  is  the  adjective  in  the  predicate. 
That  is  to  say,  while  in  Homer  I  find  a 
liberty  taken  with  natural  construction  once 


140  SOLAR  SPECKS, 

in  every  eighteen  lines  ;  I  find  one  taken  in 
every  alternate  line  by  the  poets  of  and 
about  the  Augustan  age.  And  furthermore, 
in  these  latter  poets  I  find  certain  construc- 
tions, which  for  harshness  have  no  analogue 
in  their  simpler  and  grander  metrical  proto- 
type ;  as,  for  instance,  in  such  lines  as — 

Qu^m  quse  Dardanium  tellus  mihi  servat  Acesten 
Et  patris  AnchissB  gremio  complectitur  ossa. 

Interea,  medium  ^neas  jam  classe  tenebat 
Certus  iter. 

Cxrulesd  cui  terga  notx  maculosus  et  aiiro 
Squamam  incendebat  fidgor. 

Cujus  ehur  nitidum  fastigia  summa  tegebat: 
Argenti  bifores  radiabant  lumine  valvas. 

Proteaque  ambigunm,  balxnarumque  prementem 
Mgadona,  suis  immania  terga  lacertis. 

Inde  loco  mediiis  rerum.  novitate  paventem 
Sol  oculis  juvenem,  quibus  aspicit  omnia,  vidit. 

Jussa  Desd  celeres  peragunt,  ignemque  vomenteSy 
Ambrosiae  succo  saturos,  prsesepibus  altis 
Quadrupedes  ducunt. 

Occupat  ille  levem  juvenili  corpore  currxim, 

Utque  labant  curvse  justo  sine  pondere  naves. 

Tum  primum  radiis  gelidi  caluere  Triones. 

Ita  fertur,  ut  acri 
Prsecipiti  pinus  Boredy  cui  victa  remisit 
Frena  suus  rector. 


SOLAR  SPECKS.  141 

Hie  relicto  — 
Nam  Ligurum  populos  et  magnas  rexerat  urbes  — 
Imperio. 

Lnculli  miles  coUecta  viatica  multis 
^rumnis,  lassus  dum  nocta  stertit,  ad  assem 
Perdiderat. 

Dura  sed  emovere  loco  me  tempora  grato, 
Civilisque  rudem  belli  tulit  ssstus  ad  arma, 

Obturem  patulas  impune  legentibus  aures. 

Obscurata  diu  populo  bonus  eruet,  atque 
Proferet  in  lucem  speciosa  vocabula  rerum. 

In  each  of  the  passages  here  quoted  there 
is  a  constr action  that  spoken  Latin  Avould 
have  undoubtedly  eschewed ;  and  in  some 
of  the  passages,  a  strict  and  regular  trans- 
lation, independent  of  the  context,  would 
make  downright  nonsense ;  and  indeed,  in 
such  Ovidian  lines  as 

Non  mihi,  qu3B  duri  colerent  pater  arva  juvenci, 
Lanigerosve  greges,  non  ulla  armenta  reliquit, 

we  have  an  instance  of  a  word  being  un- 
grammatically choked  by  an  accumulation 
on  all  sides  of  relative  mud.  And  remember, 
these  more  than  questionable  passages  are 
culled  from  only  about  six  pages,  taken  at 
random,  of  the  most  finished  Augustan  verse. 
The  fact  is,  the  sudden  influx  of  Grecian 


142  SOLAR  SPECKS, 

refinement  had  as  brilliant  and  disastrous  an 
effect  upon  Roman  genius,  as  had  the  influx 
of  Transatlantic  gold  upon  the  morals  and 
political  power  of  Spain.  In  the  last  gene- 
ration of  the  Republic,  and  in  the  first  of 
the  Empire,  men  were  in  a  hurry  to  acquire 
intellectual  wealth,  and  paid  the  penalty 
for  their  imprudent  haste. 

Again ;  in  Homer,  the  cadence  of  such  a 
line  as  the  following  — 

Tudeog  exyovog  tooi^  da'icpqovog  OU'e'cdao^ 

recurs  once  in  every  nine  lines  on  an  average. 
Such  aline  occasionally  occurs  in  Lucretius ; 
but  may  be  said  to  be  non-existent  in  the 
Augustan  poets.  That  is  to  say,  Lucretius 
imitated  the  musical  cadence  of  Homer,  and 
the  after  poets  followed  the  stricter  rules 
of  conventional  scansion,  which  in  all  prob- 
ability were  wholly  unknown  to  Homer. 
The  rhythm  of  Lucretius  is  monotonous, 
but  it  is  trochaic,  dactylic,  Italian.  Catullus 
is  more  trochaic,  more  Italian.  Virgil, 
Horace,  and  Ovid  are  more  varied,  more  re- 
fined, and  decidedly  un-Italian. 

That  is  to  say,  these  three  poets  performed 
a  feat  completely  unparalleled  in  the  history 


SOLAR  SPECKS,  143 

of  all  plastic  art.  They  had  a  somewhat 
unformed  language  to  work  upon,  and  used 
for  their  models  the  most  finished  works  of 
the  most  perfect  of  all  languages.  Nay, 
they  even  insisted  on  burdening  themselves 
with  accuracies  of  rhythm  to  which  their 
prototypes  were  strangers.  And  they  so 
exquisitely  moulded  their  rude  language  to 
the  wished-for  shape,  that  the  licenses, 
taken  with  it  in  the  process,  have  escaped 
the  ken  of  all  succeeding  scholars  and  crit- 
ics. Their  very  blunders  have  become  the 
touchstones  of  elegance. 

Lucretius,  from  the  nature  of  his  subject, 
addresses  himself  only  to  an  esoteric  set  of 
readers;  as  do  Virgil,  Horace,  and  Ovid 
from  the  exquisite  though  unnational  polish 
of  their  style.  A  Roman  noble  of  good  nat- 
ural abilities,  who  had  spent  a  few  years  at 
the  University  of  Athens,  would  have  en- 
joyed equally  the  grandeur  of  Lucretius,  the 
sweet  dignity  of  Virgil,  the  lyrical  chastity 
and  bantering  wisdom  of  Horace,  the  wit 
and  fancy  and  flexile  adaptativeness  of 
Ovid.  But  Catullus  alone,  with  the  tro- 
chaic and  dactylic  ring  of  his  Italian  hende- 


144  SOLAR  SPECKS, 

casyllables  and  the  unapproaclied  native 
force  of  his  Atys,  could  have  sent  a  thrill 
to  the  heart  of  a  shop-boy  in  Rome,  or  a 
shepherd  on  the  Calabrian  hills. 

The  Augustan  poets  anticipated  the  due 
season  of  metrical  perfection;  prceripuere 
musicen  postero  sceculo  dehitam;  but  they 
warped  their  language  in  the  process.  Greek 
mental  wealth,  a  Maecenas  and  an  Emperor 
ripened  prematurely  the  delicious  fruit; 
and  killed  the  seed.  For  Virgil,  Ovid,  and 
Horace  had  no  successors.  There  are  pas- 
sages in  Juvenal  that  would  lead  us  to 
suppose  he  might  have  been  a  poet  hadjie 
never  studied  rhetoric.  A  green  glade  opens 
at  long  intervals  in  the  dreary  wood  of 
Lucan.  The  dull  lamps  of  Silius  and 
Statins  flare  up  momentarily  from  time 
to  time.  Claudian  was  a  revolving  light, 
that  sent  a  few  intermittent  gleams  through 
thick  darkness,  and  went  out  after  doing 
little  service.  But  a  priest  is  to  sit  on  the 
throne  of  the  Caesars,  and  waves  of  war 
are  to  surge  over  Italy.  The  old  gods  will 
linger  in  remote  places,  and  in  the  hearts 
of  common  men :  they  are  lingering  there 


SOLAR  SPECKS.  145 

still.  The  ancient  speech  will  live  in  the 
mouth  of  peasant-folk,  safe  from  the  pedan- 
ticisms  of  an  aristocratic  literature,  and 
bending,  undestroyed,  before  the  hurri- 
canes of  war.  After  dark  and  stormy  cen- 
turies, a  Dante  will  sing  to  a  Christian  lyre 
a  song,  grand  and  eternal  as  the  Apen- 
nines ;  in  words  of  native,  pure,  indigenous 
Italian;  in  a  dialect  older  than  the  great 
grandmother  of  the  elder  Cato. 

Now,  supposing  we  commenced  our  sys- 
tem of  instruction  in  Latin  upon  a  viva-voce^ 
conversational  method,  and  approached  Lat- 
in literature  through  natural  passages  of 
prose,  such  as  we  might  extract  from  Plautus 
— ay,  and  from  Erasmus — a  pupil  would  de- 
tect instinctively  the  offences  committed 
against  universal  grammar  by  the  polished 
poets  of  the  Augustan  age.  As  it  is,  we  ig- 
nore altogether  the  conversational  method  in 
our  teaching,  and  profess  to  teach  Latin  only 
for  the  inculcation  of  the  rules  of  abstract 
grammar  ;  and  the  majority  of  the  examples 
to  our  rules  of  syntax  are  elaborate  passages 
from  the  most  artificial  class  of  all  poets. 

In  other  wards,  we  inculcate  the  rules  of 


146  SOLAR  SPECKS, 

abstract  grammar  by  the  aid  of  examples 
where  the  rules  of  natural  grammar  are 
ignored  in  favor  of  a  style  conventional 
and  artificial ;  and,  to  convey  to  young 
children  intelligible  ideas  of  general  gram- 
mar, we  pass  by  with  contempt  the  teaching 
of  their  mother-tongue,  and  the  lessons  of 
an  easy-flowing,  unconventional  Latinity, 
and  puzzle  their  little  brains  by  introducing 
them  at  once  to  constructions,  whose  essen- 
tial faultiness  and  conventional  grace  are 
visible  only  to  a  trained  and  finished  scholar. 
Indeed,  am  I  presumptuous  in  asserting, 
that  hitherto  all  our  best  Latinists  have 
gone  repeatedly  over  Augustan  ground, 
never  dreaming  that  it  was  riddled  with 
grammatical  pit-falls?  Nay ;  am  I  presumpt- 
uous in  stating  also  that  even  Italian  Lati- 
nists have  passed  unnoticed  the  flaws  that,  to 
a  certain  extent,  denationalize  the  master- 
poems  of  their  own  ancient  literature?  If 
I  am  presumptuous.  Reader,  I  am  so  in  a 
good  cause.  I  am  not  exalting  my  own  puny 
ideas  of  language  against  the  taste  and  wit 
and  genius  of  the  Augustan  trio.  The  Hel- 
lenized  Latinity  of  these  giants  is  splendid 


SOLAR  SPECKS.  147 

enough  —  heaven  knows !  — in  spite  of,  and 
perhaps  by  reason  of,  its  foreign  cadence 
and  its  daring  disregard  of  simplicity.  But, 
leaving  to  Horace  the  undisputed  throne 
of  Wit  and  Wisdom,  I  recognize  in  Ariosto 
the  equal  of  Ovid,  and  in  Dante  one  greater 
than  the  great  Mantuan.  And  the  fancy 
of  Ariosto  and  the  sublimity  of  Dante  are 
of  Italian  growth,  autochthonal.  So,  Reader, 
if  I  am  presumptuous,  I  humbly  hope  this 
presumption  will  prove  to  be  a  malady  in- 
curable and  contagious. 

Upon  what  meat  hath  our  schoolmaster  fed, 

That  he  is  grown  so  big  ?    Can  Isis  send 

No  sallow,  hungry-visaged  Cassiiis  north, 

To  prick  the  veins  of  his  o'er-swoln  conceit ! 

Come,  envious  Ca^ca  ;  thin-lipp'd  Cassias,  come  ; 

Draw  near  him,  as  he  unsuspecting  stands 

Before  his  pyjn:my,  sj'cophant  senators  ; 

And,  hissing  thro'  your  teeth,  *Take  this,  and  that  !* 

Stab  him,  as  ye  stabb'd  Caesar,  with  steel-i)ens ! 


148         PROLUSIONES  HOMERIC^, 


XII. 


MORTE    D'ARTHUR. 

So  all  day  long  the  noise  of  battle  roll'd 
Among  the  mountains  by  the  winter  sea, 
Until  King  Arthur's  table,  man  by  man. 
Had  falFn  in  Lyonness  about  their  Lord^ 
King  Arthur :  then,  because  his  wound  was  deep, 
The  bold  Sir  Bedivere  uplifted  him, 
Sir  Bedivere,  the  last  of  all  his  knights, 
And  bore  him  to  a  chapel  nigh  the  field, 
A  broken  chancel  with  a  broken  cross. 
That  stood  on  a  dark  strait  of  barren  land. 
On  one  side  lay  the  Ocean,  and  on  one 
Lay  a  great  water,  and  the  moon  was  full. 


PROLUSIONES  HOMERIC.E,         I49 


riav  8^  ii^ag  ^6.qv(xpto  naqdi  Qriy^Xva  6aX(xoai]g 
;^£«-ue^tj^TJg,  alsl  d'  iv  ogeaat  yivXlvdsx'  di3iTJ* 
b(pQ^  eiagov  ^aaLkrpg  tv  aivy\  dr/C6n]Tt 
Tidrisg  inaaaviSQOt  aq)£Te()Co  niuov  djLiq)l  apay.ji^ 
'^QiovQCO'  TOTS  d^i  ^aoiXr^a  ydiQ  Elxog  eieiQei^y 
dficpl  (5'  dg'  ibf^iouv  XQaTFQog  Bedur^Qog  dalqag 
i^dcpegEf  nolefiov  bkjcqmv  ydcQ  h]v  tQii^ocof 
loiadiog'  og  dk  dvctyix''  ov  jriXhaev  i\-^E  x«t'  dxr^g; 
iqhg  Wi  rj]6g  ovv  kIoolv  7jqto  Qayelaaig^ 
(JTTJ  6k  fielafiTiiTQOv  dt^oqjSQQ  h  oielve'i  ycxlr^g* 
ryj  ^^^  t'  *Jlxeav6g  fniyag  snlexo,  ttj  di  re  Xl^vrj 
OLdTiEjog,  id"*  ag'  vTt^gdsp  Mnv  TikThdovau.  ^eX^vq^ 


150         PROLUSIONES  HOMERICJE. 


ULYSSES. 

The  loDg  day  wanes:  the  slow  moon  climbs: 

the  deep 
Moans  round  with  many  voices.  Come,  my  friends, 
'Tis  not  too  late  to  seek  a  newer  world. 
Push  off,  and,  sitting  well  in  order,  smite 
The  sounding  furrows ;  for  my  purpose  holds 
To  sail  beyond  the  sunset,  and  the  baths 
Of  all  the  western  stars,  until  I  die. 
It  may  be  that  the  gulfs  will  wash  us  down : 
It  may  be  we  shall  touch  the  Happy  Isles, 
And  see  the  great  Achilles,  whom  we  knew. 
Tho'  much  is  taken,  much  abides  ;  and  tho' 
We  are  not  now  that  strength  which  in  old  days 
Moved  earth   and  heaven ;  that  which  we  are, 

we  are ; 
One  equal  temper  of  heroic  hearts, 
Made  weak  by  time  and  fate,  but  strong  in  will 
To  strive,  to  seek,  to  find,  and  not  to  yield. 


PROLUSIONES  HOMERIC^..         151 


^H^aQ  d'  drerat,  dfi^ahei  di  is  dia  Sel'^vri 
ovQctvov,  r^de  ddXaaaa  nsqi^Qi^ei  fj/rj^o-'ja* 
El  8^  liyere,  eig  oka,  8Xav  igvoaaTS  vr^a  /nelaivav, 
dipe  TtSQ  rjhxlag  bfreg  t'  eTzl  y^oaog  odd(bj 

jimBTB'  vvv  (5'  l^h  Ov/uog  h'l  (nrfleauLP  dcprixs, 

xocl  Zeq)iL)QOvo  dofiovg  daTQOJV  di  ts  xald  IdeiQcc, 
ocpga  fzs  McIqu  xl/ri  Oavdwv,  ^ioiov  xs  reXiaoof. 
Tig  J'  oid\  r^i  TiEP  dfijiie  xaicc^QO^eLS  duXaaaa, 
T^i  xev  ^Hlvaiop  nediov  juaxdQCJp  di  le  v/^aovg 
l^6^ed\  EpQa  (5'  a^'  aWig  idil^^eOu  IlrjXioc  vldr, 
0^  Qa  nor*  di}xfiiP  eijv  negVlliMP  iaOlog  eiaigog. 
^j4Xkdc.  rdd'  dOcivdubiv  ye  Oeihv  iv  yovpaoi  xeiiar 
nolldc  fjihv  ohp  (irroXwAe,  fiivei  di  is  nolld-  xal  ridrjy 
si  xal  yovvaoiv  ovxii'  evecnv  fiivog  ts  ^Ltj  ts, 
(hg  nor''  sj^p,  insv  d^^ip  iniaxsvev  s^qsTu  ;(0(x)p, 
iufusp  d^  olol  y"*  ia^ip'  £PS(Ttv  dk  Ov/uog  dcy^PcoQ, 
ei'g  ndPTsacrip  ofibg,  delofisp  d^  en  noXXd.  naddpisg 
isiXdcjisP  r^ds  (fiQSiv,  dXX^  oV  rt  fiivvpOd  nsg  ei'xBiP. 


152         PROLUSIONES  HOMERIC^. 


EDWIN  OF  DIERA. 

While  the  tale 
Was  being  told,  the  people  silent  stood, 
But  at  its  close  their  grief  broke  out  afresh, 
When  some  fond  memory  brought  back  Regner*s 

face, 
His  gait,  his  voice,  some  cordial  smile  of  his. 
And  all  the  frank  and  cunning  ways  he  had 
To  steal  a  gazer's  heart.     The  long  day  waned. 
And,  at  the  mournful  setting  of  the  sun. 
Up  through  the  valley  came  the  saddened  files. 
With  Regner's  body  borne  on  levelled  spears. 
And,  when  they  laid  the  piteous  burden  down 
Within  the  gate,  with  a  most  bitter  cry 
The  loose-haired  Bertha  on  it  flung  herself. 
And  strove,  in  sorrow's  passionate  unbelief. 
To  kiss  dead  lips  to  life.     The  sternest  lids 
Were  wet  with  pity  then.     But  when  the  King 
Was,  like  a  child,  led  up  to  see  his  son. 
With  sense  of  woe  in  woe's  own  greatness 

drowned. 
With  some  obscure  instinct  of  reverence 
For  sorrow  sacreder  than  any  crown. 
The  weeping  people  stood  round,  hushed  as  death. 


PROLUSIONES  HOMERIC^.         153 


Slg  oig*  oy*  iv  fiiaaoiaiv  hrirvfiog  ay y slog  ehisv* 
ol  d'  e'lMg  (xhv  aiyr^  uxovd'Qovjo  liyovTog' 
dW  iTTcl  ig  lilog  dyyeXh^g  nsmuOoPT^  uXeysivrigy 
naacy  ivl  (JTt'fieoai  nuXiv  y6cv  ?fi6Qog  cb^TO, 
fiVTjaaftlpoLdi  (pllov  "^ Prj^^^voqog  l7in;od(jc^oto, 
oI6g  t'  -^p  (ptxiPTjv  T6  ^uGiv  0\  (hg  d^  ^id^  yikacrxevy 
ag  t'  dg'  dXiTQog  crjv,  xcd  ocr'  oiac  dnocp^bha  eldibgy 
&g  ^'  hdgoig  t'  dyavhg  XaoXot  re  naaiv  iri]rig. 

^'Avexo  (5'  Ibquv  rifiag  in'  dpdgdui  (xvgo^iVOLOL' 
^ftog  J'  'lUliog  xixridv,  y.al  enl  uptcpag  i^WeVy 
oi'geog  dfi^ixlpovreg  dvd  7iru/ag  dunLdionTai 
q)aivovTO  (ng{xnr^:jv  (5'  in'  iy/eir^cn  laOiPta 
dfiq)*  lo^OLGi  (pigov  ^Frj^rivoga  redpijma. 
^viug  inel  pexgop  xaiiOevi'  epiouds  nvXdoaVy 
&g  idep,  (hg  oAoAu^ej/  ivnloxa^og  ^yfgriTi], 
dficpi  dd  /eTgs  ^ulocau  xdgr/  t'  exva'  rfik  ngoaibna, 
neldeodai  d'  IpI  Ov^uQ,  o  dri  gd  ol  aviog  oXihXeiy 
v-qntri,  ovx  iOiXeaxev  dpe(TT7](Tep  di  fitv  oid'  &g. 

*//  ga  fiep  ovv  ndpieacnv  vcp'  l[uegor  ugGS  yooio' 
avidg  inch  naitg''  udioPy  ^EgevOaXiovT'  aldolop, 
digijgol  Oegdnopieg  dyop  q:tlop  vIop  IdiaOui, 
d^  t6t'  dg'  da/aXoujp  (7(pi  yigmp  iaefiuaaaTO  Ov/uop^ 
xal  asfipog  nolv  (xdXkop  ieloraj',  dxj];(8fi£p6g7iag' 
al66[X6POv  de  fiip  taTap,  dxr^p  t'  iyePOPTO  aiom'^. 


154         PROLUSIONES  HOMERIC^. 


ENALLOS   AND  CYMODAMEIA. 

She  saw  him  in  the  action  of  his  prayer, 
Troubled,  and   ran  to   soothe   him.     From   the 

ground 
Ere  she  had  clasp t  his  neck,  her  feet  were  borne. 
He  caught  her  robe ;  and  its  white  radiance  rose 
Rapidly,  all  day  long,  through  the  green  sea. 
Enallos  loost  not  from  that  robe  his  grasp, 
But  spanned  one  ancle  too.     The  swift  ascent 
Had  stunn'd  them  into  slumber,  sweet,  serene, 
Invigorating  her,  nor  letting  loose 
The  lover's  arm  below  ;  albeit  at  last 
It  closed  those  eyes  intensely  fixt  thereon, 
And  stil  as  fixt  in  dreaming.     Both  were  cast 
Upon  an  iland  till'd  by  peaceful  men 
And  few  (no  port  nor  road  accessible) 
Fruitful  and  green  as  the  abode  they  left. 
And  warm  with  summer,  warm  with  love  and  song 
'Tis  said  that  some  whom  most  Apollo  loves 
Have  seen  that  iland,  guided  by  his  light ; 
And  others  have  gone  near  it,  but  a  fog 
Rose  up  between  them  and  the  lofty  rocks ; 
Yet  they  relate  they  saw  it  quite  as  well. 
And  shepherd-boys  and  pious  hinds  believe. 


PROLUSIONES  HOMERIC^,         155 

^Og  di  fiiy''  6/dT\(Tag  rdd^  ag^  eij/STO,  xsTgag  dgeyrig' 
^  de  fiiif  evx^t^^voy  y.ovQt^  i'de,  ^r^  dk  OeifrxeiVf 
fieiXij^ioig  Ineeouv  ngocreinifisi^ai  fiefiavla* 
ulXdc  nqlv  ijiOeio  dsigri  neql  /eTgag  Idlletv, 
iioaalv  d.v^  ix  dansdov  loeideog  &gvvT*  llaq)goig' 
"//"  ga  navi^uegh^  ui)V  'Evdllco  Kvjuoddfieia 
ibofVTO  xvavioLO  di'  ^fLxeavoXo  geeOgcov, 
xagnaKfitiig'  luroT)  d^  dg^  ^EvalXog  x^^Q^  g)aetvov 
el'XBTO  de^irigri,  krigr^  dS  li  fii>v  aq){)gov  eilev. 
^jJlicpoi^goiv  d^  aua  vnvog  inl  ^Xeq)(jcgoi(JLV  Bmme, 
t>^ygETo;,  ^dioiog,  Outt^ixia  aj';^tO"Ta  ioixcbg. 
'H  8^  ovp,  xal  ^giQovGix  neg,  f^ev,  6  J*  sl/t  fiiP  alel- 
vTcrov  d'  ov  x^^Q^S  f^^^  ^^o  ylvxegoTo  lilvvjo, 
avT&g  ol  dcpOaluol  y"*  InEni^yBuav ^  &g  £v  dvelga. 
^H8rj  d'  dc/ucporegovg  /Ltiya  ndviov  xvjita  nilaaae 
t'Tianr  in''  'tjyaOcTjP'  ioOlol  cV  (xgoojvio  fiiv  dvdgeg 
navgol  x',  ov8^  ivirjv  jig  d-TagniJOg  ovts  hjuifiv  jig- 
xX(xigy\v,  71VT6  xal  (Tq)heg6v  y'  idnd  ^ivOeai^p  dvjgovj 
xagjioqjdgoP'  Odliftsv  di  t*  hfiojg,  fiolnri  ts  hag  re. 
0a(Th.  d^  wg  noTS  xal  jiveg,  ovg  ''Exdsgyog  *An6llMv 
Tie  fiahai'  dcvSgwp,  ti^v  y'  dq)6a'K^oXGi  IdiaOai. 
ngog  ^'  dlloi  ttot^  xal  TTsXccuaPT^y  dvidv  ^'  dg  opl/lt] 
avii^p  ^EGGiiy^g  nsrg&MV  t'  dxgioiaaoiv 
dll^  xal  w^  (puaxovGL  IdeXv  rdde'  tcop  Si  re  nalSfg 
noijUBPsg  evnlGTOjg  dgoxrigeg  t'  dvdgsg  dxovGav. 


156         PROLUSIONES  HOMERIC^, 


THE   DEATH  OF  ARTEMIDORA. 

^  Artemidora  !  Gods  invisible, 
While  thou  art  lying  faint  along  the  couch, 
Have  tied  the  sandal  to  thy  slender  feet 
And  stand  beside  thee,  ready  to  convey 
Thy  weary  steps  where  other  rivers  flow. 
Refreshing  shades  will  waft  thy  weariness 
Away,  and  voices  like  thy  own  come  near 
And  nearer,  and  solicit  an  embrace." 

Artemidora  sigh'd,  and  would  have  prest 
The  hand  now  pressing  hers,  but  was  too  weak. 
Iris  stood  over  her  dark  hair  unseen 
While  thus  Elpenor  spake.     He  lookt  into 
Eyes  that  had  given  light  and  life  erewhile 
To  those  above  them,  and  now  dim  with  tears 
And  wakefulness.     Again  he  spake  of  joy 
Eternal.     At  that  word,  that  sad  word,  joy. 
Faithful  and  fond  her  bosom  heaved  once  more : 
Her  head  fell  back :  and  now  a  loud  deep  sob 
Sweird  thro'  the  darken'd  chamber;  'twas  not 
hers. 


PROLUSIONES  UOMERICuE.         157 

Egfielocg  5'  dx&xijia  fidla  a/edbv  ^Ivdev  rjc^jy, 
i^bmigoig  d^  ocq'  trjv  oix  d(p6alfiOL(nv  ivagyrig, 
e'liog  ToTaid^  clxLxvg  inl  XexieUGi  jfjidrjada' 
^Ivde,  uoiGi  d'  irrd  Ismoig  nool  driae  TiiSday 
ndiQ  dd  GOV  Ibgti]  vvp,  jLidla  jEiqofiivi^v  ue  xaid^MV 
yaTap  ii^  aXlodan'^v  xocl  in*  d.ev6L0VTa  giEdga' 
aol  d'  uvi^i})v  hagal  nvoial  axioeaaa  dd  0'  vIt] 
gia  fifxV  dLTioipv^ovav  nhvov  js  xal  alyeoc  n&vici* 
ipv/(xl  d'  (\uq:l  negl^f  yXvxvqjMvoi  lad  ooi  a^jr^^ 
hygofxevav  /slgdg  uol  ugaidg  dfucpi^alovai^v, 

^11  d'  oliyodgaviova'  (hg  rideXev  uviilu^iodav 
dE^negi]g-  dlV  ovx  idwi^^aaTO,  isfidvi]  nEg. 
Tocpga  (5'  {tnhg  nXoxd^ovg  loEidtdi" Igig  ini(nrj' 
OS  ^'  El*  Jtt'  dq)6alfioT(TtP  idegxETO  ijg  ul6/oio, 
x&llE'i  d*  ol  axLl^Eiv  fiiy  EihdEuav  uylatri  te, 
iygofiEPri  d*  dg*  ino  GivyEgov  xafidiOLO  dapdadEv. 
^EvTEgov  al)  nvfiaTOP  ts  fitp  ''Elnripcog  TigooieinEv 
^Jl  gd  pv  Oaknoigri  egetoii  ipv/alat  xajuoPTtup, 
rdgipOPTuL  di  nov  aiel  Ip  daq)o5sl(jj  lEip^vi,. 

°fLg  cpdw  Tov  d*  dlo/og  (flhj  sxIvep  avdr^aixpwg, 
xal  nifioLTOP  xga6h]  ol  M  axrfiEOUi  ndru^EP' 
ei'traro  ydg  ol  L,rip  noli)  ^iljEgop  ^  xal  undar^g 
dyXatjjg  Tag(f)dr^vai>  ip  dGq)o6El(o  XEvp^vi' 
d^  T(5i'  dg^  ovp  riuvGs  xdgij  ndXvP'  alipa  d*  InEiia 
iv  dpog)EgoTg  Oaldjuoig  xXavOpog  noXvdaxgvg  dgwger 
xlavdfjov  (5'  ri  pdV  dq^Mvog  h]oda  tot',  ^yfgTEfiid(})grj, 


158  BACK  TO  BABEL. 


m 


XIII. 


B^i^CK   TO    BABEL. 


I  FOUGET,  for  the  moment — and  perhaps 
1  never  knew — the  exact  date  of  the  simul- 
taneous emigrations  from  Babel.  I  think 
there  must  have  been  many  grammarians 
that  carried  hods  up  the  spirals  of  that 
never-finished  tower.  And  I  imagine  they 
must  have  contracted  a  more  than  ordinary 
share  of  dizziness  at  the  summit,  and  de- 
scended to  transmit  vertigo  to  all  succeed- 
ing generations. 

I  have  had  on  three  occasions  to  march 
through  Coventry  with  a  little  regiment  of 
Latin  and  Greek  tyros.  Oftentimes,  while 
jogging  on  at  their  head  over  a  dreary  com- 
mon, I  have  Quixotically  attacked  gram- 
matical windmills,  under  the  conviction 
that  their  sails  were  going  whirr-whirr  to 
the  grinding  of  no  corn. 


BACK  TO  BABEL,  159 

After  laying  it  down  as  an  initiatory 
dogma,  that  the  two  classical  languages  are 
sisters  of  our  own  good  Saxon  mother,  I 
have  often  found  it  difficult  to  prove  to  my 
young  disciples  that  their  linguistic  aunts 
are  sisters  of  one  another.  To  instance  one 
difficulty  that  faces  us  at  the  outset.  Their 
nouns  are  stretched  upon  diverse  skeletons. 
The  sides  of  Latin  are  furnished  with  six 
case-ribs,  and  those  of  Greek  with  but  five. 
This  would  seem  to  indicate  a  difference  of 
sex,  and  an  Adam-and-Eve  relationship. 
Was  it  in  the  Ante-Deucalion  days,  when 
Greek  was  fast  asleep,  that  the  rib  was  re- 
moved from  his  flank  along  Epirus  ? 

The  genitive  case  in  Greek  is  made  to  do 
the  entire  work  of  the  genitive  and  some 
work  of  the  ablative  of  Latin ;  the  dative  of 
the  former,  the  entire  work  of  the  dative 
and  another  part  of  that  of  the  ablative  in 
the  latter ;  and  many  syntax  rules  of  Latin 
seem  to  allow  an  unreasonable  choice  be- 
tween the  genitive  and  ablative.  The  rules 
for  the  gerund  are  ludicrous  enough ;  but 
in  that  for  the  locative  case  we  reach  the 
acm^  of  grammatical  unreason :  — 


160  BACK  TO  BABEL, 

In  or  at  a  place  is  put  in  the  genitive  case,  if 
the  noun  he  of  the  first  or  second  declension,  and 
of  the  singular  number ;  hut  in  the  ablative  case, 
if  the  noun  be  of  the  third  declension,  or  if  it  be 
a  plural  noun  of  any  declension. 

Now,  if  this  rule  were  correct  in  sub- 
stance, it  would  seem  to  indicate  as  much 
coherence  in  Latin  syntax  as  in  the  dreams 
of  a  maniac.  After  swallowing  such  a  bolus 
of  indigestibility,  we  might  safely  bolt 
anything:  brace-buttons,  tee-totums,  cork- 
screws. I  venture  to  suggest  some  analo- 
gues: 

An  active-transitive  verb  governs  an  accusative 
case,  if  the  verb  be  of  the  first  conjugation,  and 
the  noun  of  the  fourth  declension  and  of  the  femi- 
nine gender ;  otherwise,  the  verb  may  govern  any 
case  or  no  case,  as  you  please. 

An  adjective  agrees  with  its  noun  in  gender^ 
number,  and  case ;  excepting  in  the  case  of  femi- 
nine nouns  defective  in  the  singular,  and  irregu- 
lar in  their  habits. 

I  have  an  idea  of  publishing  a  cookery 
book  upon  the  same  principles  of  unreason. 
The  following  recipe  I  quote  as  an  antici- 
patory advertisement :  — 


HACK  TO  BABEL.  161 

To  make  an  apple-pie,  you  will  compose  the 
interior  of  currant-jam,  if  the  pie  he  made  on 
Wednesday,  and  the  weather  out-of  doors  he  windy  ; 
hut  of  soap-suds,  if  it  he  your  washing  day,  and 
the  dish  he  of  the  willow  pattern. 

However,  Reader,  the  fault  is  ascribable 
not  to  Latin,  but  to  the  exponents  of  its 
grammar.  In  or  at  a  place,  of  course,  was 
never,  even  in  the  Cannibal  Islands,  ex- 
pressed by  case-endings  in  so  arbitrary  a 
way.  Such  a  locative  rule  would  be  lumber- 
some,  if  it  were  true;  but,  as  you  are  aware, 
Reader,  it  is  a  tissue  of  nonsense  from 
beginning  to  end. 

I  have  an  idea  that  some  extra  confusion 
was  caused  by  the  introduction  of  the  abla- 
tive case  into  Latin  grammar.  And  yet  one 
should  deal  cautiously  with  a  case  that  was 
begotten  of  the  first  and  greatest  of  the 
Caesars.  There  had  been  Dictators  before 
Julius ;  but  never  an  one  with  so  catholic  a 
spirit  of  autocracy.  Like  a  steam-hammer, 
he  could  flatten  a  ball  of  metal,  or  settle 
daintily  on  an  egg ;  and  took  an  imperial 
part  in  the  declension  of  his  country's 
liberties,  aristocracy,  adjectives,  and  nouns. . 
The  tyranny  of  an  emperor,  however,  was 


Ib2  BACK    TO  BABEL. 

usually  limited  in  action  to  a  select  few.  It 
was  a  perquisite  of  noblesse.  I  think  it 
was  so  with  the  blunder  of  the  ablative.  I  do 
not  suppose  any  tradesmen,  excepting  those 
Avho  served  the  Court,  would  take  kindly 
to  the  bad  grammar  of  the  upper  circles. 

Half,  if  not  all,  the  absurdities  in  our 
grammars  arise  from  the  fact,  that  the  rules 
-were  enunciated  Avhen  the  theory  of  lan- 
guage was  imperfectly  understood,  and  when 
the  two  great  languages  were  considered  as 
alien  to  one  another.  Now,  that  Ave  allow 
them  to  be  kindred  dialects  of  one  great 
Arian  form  of  speech,  why  should  not  a 
brief  and  simple  and  cheap  manual  be  pre- 
sented to  young  students,  such  as  should 
bring  out  in  clear  relief  so  interesting  a 
fact? 

For  my  own  part  I  am  conscious  of 
possessing  one  qualification  for  the  task  of 
writing  one ;  the  directness  and  plainness 
of  speech  that  characterize  my  countrymen. 
But  here  my  fitness  ends.  I  have,  indeed, 
studied  some  six  modern  languages,  with  a 
view  of  generalizing  linguistic  rules ;  but, 
I  must  confess,  in  a  desultory  way,  and 
chiefly  for  my  own  amusement.     I  feel  the 


BACK  TO  BABEL.  163 

poverty  of  my  resources,  and  fear  the  light 
of  mtuition  and  of  desultory  study  might 
prove  a  Will-o'-the-wisp.  I  have  all  the 
courage  for  the  task,  but  lack  breadth  of 
philology.  I  fear  those  who  are  gifted  with 
the  latter  will  lack  the  former.  It  is  so 
difficult  to  prove  to  such  men  that  their 
linguistic  knowledge  has  come  in  spite  of 
an  early  training  that  has  plunged  nine- 
tenths  of  their  school-comrades  in  an  eternal 
Latin-and-Greek  night. 

Let  us,  then,  borrow  a  Hercules  from 
Germany ;  and  having  solemnly  bound  him 
over  to  an  un-German  brevity  in  the  opera- 
tion, send  him  with  mop  and  broom  and 
pail  into  the  Augean  stables,  to  cleanse 
them  of  their  grammatical  litter. 

I  venture,  meanwhile,  to  suggest  a  case- 
classification  of  my  own ;  partly  for  my  own 
amusement  in  the  building,  and  partly  for 
the  amusement  of  those  who  enjoy  having 
something  to  demolish. 

Praspositive  ==     Nominative ; 

Appositive  =     Accusative ; 

Directive  =     Dative ; 

Possessive  =     Genitive  in  s  ; 

Definitive  =  .  Genitive  in  a  vowel. 


164 


BACK  TO  BABEL. 


Praep. 

forma 

fl6Q(p7J 

App. 

for  man 

^6Q(f>riP 

Dir. 

formal 

^6o(pr^c 

Poss. 

fioQCffjg 

Def. 

formae 
2. 

Praep. 

nautas 

va{)Tj]g 

App. 

nautan 

vaiuxTiv 

Dir. 

nautdi 

vavirjv 

Poss. 
Def. 

nautae 

pa^fiao 

Praep. 

dies 

l^COXQ&TTjg 

App. 

dien 

SWKQIITTJV 

Dir. 

diet 

^MXqdLTeX 

Poss. 

SoiiKQikieog 

Def. 

die'e 

4. 


Praep. 

navis,  navs 

bg)tg 

App. 

navin 

OCplf 

Dir. 

navi'i 

bq;u 

Poss. 

navios,  navis 

ocpiog 

Def. 

BACK  TO  BABEL.  165 


5. 

Praep. 

Deos 

Sebg 

App. 

Deon 

Gebv 

Dir. 

Deo'i 

0S&C 

Poss. 

Def. 

Deoe 
6. 

eeo'e 

Praep. 

alius,    alios 

dillog 

App. 

alium,  allon 

mov 

Dir. 

alii,      allo'i 

aXloL 

Poss. 

alius,   allo'is 

Def. 

7. 

aUo's 

Praep. 

currus 

^diQvg 

App. 

currun 

^OlQVV 

Dir. 

currui 

(^OTQVl 

Poss. 

curruos 

(idrgvog 

Def. 

8. 

Praep. 

peds 

nodg 

App. 

pedn 

TTody 

Dir. 

pedi 

nodi 

Poss. 

pedis 

nodog 

Def. 

166  BACK  TO  BABEL, 

The  names  of  the  first  four  cases  of  my 
system  speak  plainly  enough  for  themselves. 
The  fifth  presents  a  little  difficulty. 

I  may  as  well  premise  that  only  a  noun 
can  correctly  be  said  to  have  a  case  or 
relative  ending.  An  adjective  and  a  par- 
ticiple may  musically  imitate  a  noun  ;  but 
strictly  speaking  they  can  only  be  said  to 
have  cases  of  their  own,,  when  they  are  used 
as  nouns.  In  conversation  a  final  consonant 
wafe  continually  dropped ;  especially  a  nasal 
one,  as  m  or  n.  This  would  be  more  often 
the  case  with  the  adjective  or  participle, 
when  used  as  mere  epithet,  than  with  noun 
or  verb,  as  they  would,  in  most  instances, 
immediately  precede  their  noun,  and  the 
termination  of  the  latter  would  sufficiently 
determine  the  case  of  both.  The  noun  and 
verb  would  also  drop  their  final  consonant, 
when  from  position  they  could  do  so  eupho- 
niously and  without  causing  ambiguity. 

The  Prepositive  case  is  the  shadow  thrown 
in  front  by  a  coming  verb.  It  is  the  fore- 
runner of  the  king  of  the  sentence ;  a  gram- 
matical gold-stick.  Its  termination  was, 
perhaps,  originally  the  letter  s  ;  which  may 


BACK  TO  BABEL.  167 

possibly  be  a  corruption  of  the  verb  asen  of 
existence. 

The  Appositive  is  a  page  that  follows 
close  upon  its  king,  holding  up  his  train. 
It  follows  a  verb  of  action  or  motion.  All 
verbs  of  action  are  transitive.  An  active- 
intransitive  verb  would  be  a  horse-marine 
in  grammar  or  in  common  sense.  An  appo- 
sitive would  follow  ahire  even  more  natur- 
ally than  it  would  follow  amare ;  as  the 
physical  motion  of  the  former  verb  is  more 
easily  grasped  than  the  mental  or  spiritual 
motion  of  the  latter.  Consequently,  if  a 
special  rule  were  required  at  all,  it  would  be 
required  rather  to  explain  amat patrem  than 
ahiit  domum.  The  final  m  or  n^  which  was 
often  used  separately  as  a  preposition  in  the 
forms  of  aj/a,  tV,  dg^  or  ivg^  in^  probably 
ms,  and  of  our  own  on^  was  possibly  the 
root  or  infinitive  of  a  verb  signifying  to 
flow  or  move.  We  may  detect  this  verb  in 
'£2xeav6g,  annus^  amnis  or  annis^  Aniens^ 
Evenus^  Simoents^  no^  anat%^  aivao^g ;  in 
iaravai^  TiMvai,  dtdovai^  Ltvyvvvai,  %im^ 
Tuv ;  in  the  old  Latin  infinitives  amaen^ 
moneen^  audien^  gnoen^    soluen^  regen ;   in 


168  BACK  TO  BABEL. 

%vx\iavxoQ^  Ti&tvTog,  TVTCTovTog,  Levyvvv- 
Tog ;  in  amantis^  monentis ;  in  participial 
nouns  as  dente^  monte  ;  in  the  Latin  infini- 
tives when  they  pass  into  the  form  of  verbal 
nouns  or  active  verbal  adjectives,  as  aman- 
dum^  monendum^  amandus^  monendus ;  in 
ous  own  Teutonic,  kommen^  essen;  in  read- 
ing^  writing^  or  the  more  archaic  readend^ 
writend.  In  translating  ista  domus  est  ven- 
denda  by  yon  house  is  selling  or  to  sell^ 
we  see  how  the  end  of  Latin  and  the  ing  of 
Saxon  is  rendered  by  the  preposition  of 
motion  to.  We  may  as  well  observe  that 
ista  domus  est  ad  vendendum  or  ad  venden 
is  older  and  correcter  Latin  than  ista  domus 
est  vendenda^  where  music  has  changed  ad 
venden  or  da  venden  into  a  verbal  adjective 
corresponding  to  our  selling  or  saleable. 

The  Directive  case  is  a  sort  of  city-mar- 
shal, that  orders  rightly  a  procession.  Its 
termination  i  is  a  modification  of  the  word 
that  terminates  the  Appositive,  and  parti- 
cularizes, in  the  way  of  m,  at,  on,  or  upon, 
the  action  of  some  previous  word,  usually 
of  motion,  but  not  so  necessarily ;  as,  dedit 
milii ;   Carthagini  re  stab  at ;  utilis  urbi;  in 


BACK  TO  BABEL.  169 

oppido  ;  cum  exercitu.  Wherever  I  find  a 
noun  attached  to  in  or  cum.,  I  am  very  much 
inclined  to  think  we  at  one  time  had  no 
case  at  all;  and,  I  am  convinced  that,  if 
fashion  introduced  a  superfluous  case-end- 
ing, it  was  the  directive  or  dative. 

The  Possessive  case  denotes  ownership  or 
possession;  and,  of  course,  it  must  either 
have  a  noun  clinging  to  it,  or  it  must  cling 
to  another  noun,  as  a  sort  of  barnacle  or 
parasite.  It  invariably  ends  in  s,  and  has 
a  provoking  tendency  to  turn  adjective,  and 
imitate  the  noun  to  which  it  is  attached. 
In  such  words  as  patris^  militis^  ejus.,  illius^ 
alterius^  it  is  content  to  remain  unalterable : 
in  cujus  it  is  apt  to  let  music  turn  its  head, 
as  in  cuja  puella  est.,  cujum  filium  vidisti  ; 
though,  one  would  think,  cujus  had  no  more 
business  to  decline  itself  than  its  synonym 
whose :  as  for  meus^  tuus.,  suus,  eaog,  aoQ^  tog, 
they  have  totally  forgotten  their  noun-ori- 
gin. I  may  as  well  state  my  suspicion  that 
the  adjectival  use  was  possibly  the  first  use  of 
all  possessives.  If  so,  cuja  puella  is  more  cor- 
rect than  cujus  puella  ;  and  patris.,  militis  de- 
serve a  declension  as  much  as  tmis  and  suus. 


170  BACK  TO  BABEL. 

And  now,  not  without  fear  and  trembling, 
I  proceed  to  treat  of  the  Definitive  ;  remem- 
bering the  trible  warning — Be  bold :  Ever- 
more be  bold :  Be  not  too  bold. 

The  Definitive  case  was  that  case  which 
enabled  one  noun,  when  applied  to  another, 
to  define^  qualify^  limit.,  specialize  or  parti- 
cularize this  latter  noun  in  almost  every 
way  EXCEPT  POSSESSION.  Its  termination 
was  probably  a  corruption  of  a  preposition 
answering  to  (XTTO,  abs^  ah;  eks^  eh.,  ef ; 
von;  of. 

It  would  seem  to  be  with  case-endings 
as  with  theological  disputants.  If  the  latter 
differ  toto  coelo  from  one  another,  there  is 
room,  perhaps,  for  mutual  forbearance :  if 
they  overlap  each  other  in  doctrine,  there 
is  war  to  the  knife  ;  as  between  men  that 
jostle  one  another  on  the  road  to  heaven. 
So  is  it  with  the  Definitive  and  Possessive. 
They  appear  to  have  been  quite  unable  to 
live  at  peace  in  any  one  noun  together. 
Whichever  of  the  two  cases  in  any  parti- 
cular noun  were  the  oftener  needed,  would 
gradually  usurp  the  duties  of  the  other. 
The  Definitive,  in  Latin,  is  exiled  from  the 


BACK  TO  BABEL.  171 

declensions  of  u  and  of  consonants;  or,  if  it 
appears  at  all,  is  dogged  by  an  adjective  : 
the  possessive  is  extinct  in  the  declensions 
of  a  and  e  ;  and  in  the  o  declension,  lingers 
in  the  back  settlements  of  ille^  qui^  is,  ipse, 
unus,  totus,  alius,  and  alter.  This  civil  strife 
of  grammar-kinsmen  has  proved  a  Kilkenny 
warfare  in  the  end ;  for  both  cases  have 
disappeared  from  modern  Italian,  French, 
Spanish,  and  Portuguese. 

The  disagreements  of  these  cases  led  to 
grammatical  mesalliances  at  times.  Thus 
in  such  sentences  asfillus  erat  boni  patris  ; 
pater  erat  excellentis  viei  ;  we  have  a 
definitive  adjective  united  to  a  possessive 
noun,  and  a  possessive  adjective  to  a  defi- 
nitive. It  is  wrong  in  grammar,  but  what 
can  you  do?  bonus  has  lost  its  possessive, 
and  pater  its  definitive.  It  is  ridiculous 
to  be  always  quarrelling.  A  compromise 
is  requisite  for  mutual  preservation.  So, 
in  Indian  warfare,  the  Ojibbeway  widower, 
Bald-eagle,  scalps  the  Great  Snake,  a  Bene- 
dict of  the  Mingoes ;  but  falling  a  prisoner 
into  Mingo  hands,  is  permitted  to  assume 
the  name   and  dignity  of  the   dead  hero : 


172  BACK  TO  BABEL. 

with  the  wig  of  the  departed  dangling  from 
his  chdtellaine^  he  takes  possession  of  a 
cuckoo-wigwam,  and  comforts  a  not  un- 
comfortable widow. 

I  have  given,  as  the  only  specimens  of 
surviving  definitives,  nautae\  diee\  deoe\ 
We  do  meet  with  a  few  others,  as  in  an 
occasional  neuter  of  the  fourth  or  u  declen- 
sion, where  we  detect  the  case  by  the 
adjective  attached ;  and  in  a  proper  name, 
as  Ulyxei.  But  we  shall  confine  our  atten- 
tion to  such  ordinary  instances  as  the  three 
above.  Their  probable  dialectic  changes 
would  be : — 


nautavs 

dominovs 

dievs 

nautav 

dommov 

diev 

nautau 

dominou 

dieu 

nautao 

dominoe 

die'i 

nautae 

dominoi 

die 

nautce 

domini 

nautd 

domino 

They  would  be  invariably  attached  to  another 
noun.,  and  never  governed  by  a  verb.  In 
such  a  sentence  as  hoc  non  boni  viri  est^ 
boni  viri  is  governed  by  a  noun,  that  is  so 
obviously  implied  in  est  as  to  be  omitted 


BACK  TO  BABEL.  I73 

without  risk  of  ambiguity.  The  case  was 
strictly  definitive  or  qualitative  in  its  opera- 
tion ;  and  is  correctly  used  in  such  senten- 
ces as  the  following :  — 

Erat  homo  magni  ingeni ; 
Erat  homo  magno  ingenio  ; 
Erat  matrona  praeclarse  formoe  ; 
Erat  matrona  praeclara  forma ; 
Erat  animal  permirae  specie! ; 
Erat  animal  permira  specie  ; 
Erat  tibia  recurvi  cornu  ; 
Erat  tibia  recurvo  cornu  ; 
Erat  filius  honesti  viri ; 
Erat  filia  hones  tee  matronae  : 

in  the  two  latter  sentences  the  Definitive 
meaning  appears  to  approach  the  Posses- 
sive: it  certainly  does  not  reach  it. 

In  the  following  sentences  we  have  speci- 
mens of  fashionable,  ordinary  but  incorrect 
Latinity : 

Erat  filius  sapientis  viri  ; 
Erat  ^Wdi,  prudentis  matronce; 
Erat  vir  ingenuce  indolis  ; 
Finis  erat  morientis  diet. 

Now,  as  the  meaning  of  the  Definitive 
was  so  very  apt  to  clash  with  that  of  the 


174  BACK  TO  BABEL, 

Possessive,  it  is  very  probable  that  wherever 
it  was  resolved  into  two  different  forms, 
such  as  nautce^  nautd;  domini^  domino  ;  diei^ 
die  ;  that  for  convenience  and  perspicuity, 
one  form  would  monopolize  the  meaning  of 
the  dispossessed  Possessive,  although  both 
might  retain  the  original  Definitive  signifi- 
cation ;  thus  we  should  use  only  domini  for 
a  possessive,  but  either  ingeni  or  ingenio  in 
a  qualitative  expression. 

In  regard  to  this  phenomenon  of  the 
disagreement  between  Possessive  and  De- 
finitive, the  classic  languages  differ  only 
in  degree  from  that  of  our  own  Teutonic. 
Theoretically,  all  our  nouns  have  a  posses- 
sive ;  but  practically  only  a  certain  number 
of  nouns  require  them.  The  nouns,  tahle^ 
piano-forte^  and  side-hoard^  would  seem  to 
merit  a  possessive  as  well  as  the  nouns, 
man^  hoy^  and  dog;  but  while  we  should 
say,  a  maul's  hat^  a  hoy^s  cap^  a  dog^s  tail ; 
we  should  say,  the  leg  of  a  table,,  the  tone  of 
a  piano-forte,^  the  price  of  a  side-hoard. 
That  is  to  say,  the  idea  of  possession  chimes 
in  easily  with  the  meaning  of  some  words, 
and  not  with  that  of  others.     These  latter 


BACK  TO  BABEL.  I75 

words  would  be  the  first,  then,  to  use  a 
definitive  case  to  the  exclusion  of  a  posses- 
sive, even  under  those  few  chance  circum- 
stances where  a  possessive  case  might  be 
more  appropriate.  In  course  of  time  the 
possessive  endings  for  such  nouns,  from  de- 
suetude, would  sound  barbarous  or  pedan- 
tic ;  they  would  therefore  be  dropped  al- 
together. Gradually,  the  gramma  of  anal- 
ogy^ imitation^  or  fashion  would  exclude  the 
possessive  case  for  dmilarly-soundiyig  nouns, 
that  really  were  in  continual  need  of  them  ; 
as  it  appears  to  have  fared  with  Dominus; 
puer:  aXXo^ ;  Qeog. 

At  first  sight,  we  should  be  inclined  to 
consider  a  Possessive  case  as  a  very  marked 
one  in  its  signification,  and  one  deserving 
of  special  conservation.  It  has  been,  how- 
ever, very  scurvily  treated.  Greek  and 
Teutonic  have  dealt  the  most  kindly  with 
it.  Latin  was  moving  in  the  direction  of  its 
obliteration.  Its  place  of  refuge  was  in 
the  third  and  fourth  declensions,  as  the  de- 
clensions are  badly  named  in  our  ordinary 
grammars.  The  daughters  of  Latin  have 
condemned  it,  most  unreasonably,  to  per- 


176  BACK  TO  BABEL, 

petual  banishment  from   France  and   the 
great  southern  peninsulas. 

The  Possessive  has  been  well  preserved 
in  Teutonic  dialects;  as  also  in  the  gran- 
ite-strata of  Latin  and  Greek  consonantal 
nouns.  Our  own  Saxon  is,  in  fact,  a  far 
older  form  of  speech  than  the  Greek  of 
Homer.  The  Greek  wore  once  the  kingly 
crown  of  music,  but  surrendered  it  to  the 
Italian,  who  wears  it  still.  But  the  German, 
or,  more  correctly  speaking,  the  Teuton- 
Hebrew,  is  now  the  emperor  of  instrumental 
sounds.  However,  the  grimness  of  the  old 
Teuton-pure  lingers  still  in  the  final  con- 
sonants of  his  language.  Such  words  as 
puela^  puerula^  die^  navi^  av&^Mno^  aOTV 
are  not  primitive :  their  terminations  are  the 
children  of  civilization.  The  words  of  old 
were  gwelas,  gwerulas^  dags^  navs^  aytQaxjiy 
aTCcTC,  which  rude  forms  were  softened  by 
the  worshippers  of  a  God  of  many  names. 
Call  him  Sunlight ;  Music ;  Wine ;  Joy ;  Bac- 
chus; Mercurius;  Apollo.  For  Apollo  took 
away  the  rude  consonantal  bagpipes  of  lan- 
guage, and  replaced  them  with  a  flute  of  five 
stops,  and  gave  the  latter  to  the  dwellers  in 


BACK  TO  BABEL,  177 

the  Sea  of  Islands ;  to  a  race  that  loved  music 
and  dancing.  For  the  vowels  are  the  music 
and  the  light  and  wine  and  joy  of  language : 
the  notes  of  the  human  flute,  which  instru- 
ment, when  breathed  upon  by  love  through 
the  lips  of  Youth  and  Maiden,  is  more 
thrilling  than  the  song  of  matin-bird,  more 
subtle-sweet  than  the  even-song  of  nightin- 
gale, more  ravishing  than  the  strains  of 
Israfel  that  hold  the  Angels  mute. 

We  may  trace  the  chain  of  ideas  which 
would  lead  to  the  extinction  of  a  possessive 
case  in  one  language,  or  of  a  definitive  in 
another.  Supposing  I  were  to  land  on  an 
unknown  island,  and  find  a  race  of  men 
with  something  like  a  caudal  appendage,  I 
should  probably  tell  my  friends,  on  my 
return  home,  that  I  had  seen  a  tribe  of  men 
who  wore  monkeys'^  tails.  And  I  should 
be  understood,  although  my  grammar  were 
incorrect:  I  should  have  said,  the  tails  of 
monkeys.  For  a  man  may  wear  a  monkey^ s 
tail^  of  which  he  has  deprived  some  unfor- 
tunate and  surviving  monkey,  and  may 
wear  it  round  his  neck,  or  he  may  carry 
it   attached  to  him  as   a   watch-guard,  or 


178  BACK  TO  BABEL, 

as  a  novel  stimulant  for  educational  pur- 
poses. But  a  man  who  wears  the  tail  of  a 
monhey^  or  the  tail  of  the  monkey^  will  be 
wearing  it  as  his  own  tail ;  only,  that  the 
appearance  of  it  will  suggest  the  idea  of 
that  kind  of  tail,  which  at  once  proceeds 
from^  or  is  connected  with^  or  is  defined^ 
specified,,  limited^  or  particularized  hy  our 
ordinary  ideas  of  a  monkey. 

Again ;  any  butcher's  boy  may  raise  your 
laughter  by  attaching  a  tin-kettle  to  a  dog^s 
tail ;  but  only  a  man  of  fine  genius  can  draw 
your  tears  by  tying  pathos  to  the  tale  of  a 
dog.  A  man,  also,  may  be  supported  on 
asses^  milk;  but  he  can  only  be  said,  correct- 
ly, to  have  the  brains  of  an  ass.  There  may 
be  special  cases,  however,  where  the  use  of 
the  possessive  in  the  latter  phrase  may  ap- 
pear the  more  correct. 

Let  us  now  proceed  to  a  brief  treatment 
of  the  Plural  Number : — 


Praep. 

1. 

nautai 

>avTai 

App. 

nautans 

vaiiavg 

Dir. 

nautats 

paiiaig 

Poss. 
Def. 

nautaion 

vavT^nxiv 

BACK  TO  BABEL. 


179 


Pra3p. 

App. 

Dir. 

Poss. 

Def. 


PrjEp. 

App. 

Dir. 

Poss. 

Def. 


Prasp. 

App. 

Dir. 

Poss. 

Def. 


Deoi 

Seol 

Deons 

Qtbvg 

Deo'is 

esoig 

Dcoion 

Qeibv 

3. 

navies 

ocpieg 

navins 

6(f)irg 

naviis 

bcpiig 

naviesn 

6(f)l(x)v 

4. 

pedes 

Tiodeg 

pedns 

7ib6vg 

pediis 

TiodUg 

pedesn 


odibv 


The  real,  and  perhaps  the  only,  pural 
letter  is  s.  Those  prepositives  plural  would 
gradually  assume  a  vowel-ending,  where  the 
addition  of  an  s  to  the  prepositive  singular 
would  be  sounded  with  difficulty,  or  would 
lead  to  a  confusion  with  other  cases. 


180  BACK  TO  BABEL, 

The  formation  of  the  appositives  plural  is 
plain  enough.  I  may  as  well  state  that  such 
an  appositive  singular,  as  nodcc^  has  merely 
dropped  its  final  nasal  consonant  v  ;  and 
that,  probably,  pedem  dropped  its  m  as 
often. 

In  the  directives  plural,  a  6  or  t;  would 
continually  intrude,  as  in  pedibus^  hominibus 
nobis^  vobis :  in  Greek,  euphony  was  occa- 
sionally preserved  by  transposition,  as  in 
oyerrt  or  ocpiOi  for  ocpug. 

There  are  no  such  cases  as  possessives 
plural ;  for  a  very  simple  reason.  We  should 
have  had  to  forni  them  by  the  addition  of 
a  plural  s  to  a  possessive  s,  and  they  would 
have  sounded  very  harshly  to  musical  ears. 
I  may  as  well  say  that  possessives  plural  are 
very  rare  even  in  our  own  language. 

The  definitives  plural  are,  perhaps,  more 
puzzling  than  their  singular  correlatives. 
I  believe  they  are  nothing  more  than  un- 
declinable adjectives,  like  what  I  sus- 
pected patris^  militis  to  be.  They  are 
formed  by  adding  ov  oy  en  to  the  preposi- 
tive plural.  In  such  a  word  as  illorum^  the 
r,  softly  pronounced,  is  interchangeable  with 


BACK  TO 


i;  as  in  legitur^  Xiy^tai  ;  and  we  can  now 

perhaps,  account  for  the  anomalous  accent- 
uation of  such  a  word  as  the  latter  on  the 
grounds  that  the  final  syllable  rai  is  not  a 
diphthong  but  a  corruption,  probable  oi%a{) 
or  %oq ;  as  also  for  the  accentuation  of 
av^Qconoi^  and  the  like ;  and,  reversely,  for 
that  of  optatives  where  an  oi  does  represent 
a  diphthongal  sound.  The  r  intrudes,  eupho- 
niously, in  amare  ;  or  it  may  replace  an  s. 
As  we  say  in  provincial  English,  this  is  not  of 
yourn^  so  in  old  Latin  they  would  say,  hoc  non 
est  vostri^  or  hoc  non  est  di  vostrn.  However, 
in  vostrn  we  are  startled  with  the  appearance 
of  a  t.  The  word  should  have  been  vosrn 
for  vosn.  The  termination  is  the  same  as 
that  of  mine^  thine^  unsern,  sein  ;  and  of 
yoiirn^  hisn^  theirn^  which,  in  the  predicate, 
are  more  correct  forms  than  yours^  his,  theirs. 
Perhaps  the  Spanish  vosotros,  and  the  French 
vous  autres  will  illustrate  the  anomalous 
spelling  of  vostrilm,  nostrum. 

Indeed,  wherever  I  see  the  termination 
ter  or  tr,  I  suspect  an  idea  of  otherty,  or  the 
suggestion  of  a  correlate ;  as  in  nostr,  vostr  ; 
i]ueTtQ,vutTrQ  ;  either,  neither ;  uter;  alter; 


182  BACK  TO  BABEL, 

O0(p(ore() ;  better;  magior  or  major  ;  fa-tlier^ 
mo-tJier  ;  hro-ther^  sis-ter  ;  ma-ter-ter-a  ;  and 
daugh'ter^  whose  correlative  is  obvious  in 
meaning,  but  lost  in  language. 

Let  us  recur  to  illorum.  Have  you  ever 
heard  a  Welshman,  Reader,  speak  the  word 
Llangollen  ?  The  sound  of  the  double  ?  is  a 
sort  of  compromise  between  a  whistling  and 
a  spitting.  I  could  express  it  on  paper  with 
a  pen  that  spluttered.  Remembering  this, 
we  may  follow  illorum  through  strange 
windings ;  thus :  illoion^  illony  illorn^  llorn^ 
thlorn,  thiorn^  theirn^  their.  So  aliorum 
would  suggest  aXkoiov^  used  indeclinably  ; 
and  eorum  the  Teutonic  ihren.  And  aliarum 
or  aXXaiov  is  more  correctly  used  than 
akXoiov^ui  speaking  of  women.  And  alienus 
is  a  declinable  form  of  them  all,  and  is  in- 
correctly formed  as  having  one  termination 
appended  in  two  ways.  The  termination  on 
OT  en  or  n  was,  I  believe,  recurred  to  in 
Semitic  or  Arian  languages,  to  form  such 
words  as  were  not  worth  the  trouble  of  de- 
clining, under  which  category  would  come 
all  neuter  nouns,  and  neuter  adjectival 
forms,  that  might   be  used   as   definitives 


BACK  TO  BABEL.  183 

plural  or  dual.  Indeed,  I  imagine  that  the 
greater  part  of  Greek  dual  words  would  dis- 
appear before  a  strict  scrutiny;  and  that 
such  Avords  as  tivain^  kine^  oxen^  are  not  duals 
or  plurals,  but  adjectival  words  used  in  an 
indefinite  and  somewhat  lazy  manner.  And 
I  also  imagine  that  the  n  of  third  persons 
plural  is  grammatically  incorrect,  but  lazily 
convenient.  Am  I  in  earnest.  Reader,  or 
simply  havering  ?  Have  I  made  some  curi- 
ous discoveries  ?  or,  what  is  more  probable, 
some  curious  blunders?  Have  I  sprung  a 
mine  of  philology,  or  sprung  a  leak  ?  The 
issue  either  way  will  serve  to  point  a  moral : 
will  encourage  or  deter,  by  demonstrating 
the  advantage,  or  the  danger,  of  trusting  to 
mother-wit. 

I  now  proceed  to  treat  of  classes  of 
words  not  included  in  my  case  system,  such 
as  patre^  milite^  prudente ;  domine^  asine. 
These  are  respectively  termed  in  our  Gram- 
mars Ablative  and  Vocative  cases.  I  assert 
that  they  are  not  cases  at  all ;  that  the  so- 
called  Ablatives  above  given  are  only  crude 
forms  or  Name- words  ;  and  that  such  Voca- 
tives as  domine  have  merely  exchanged  a 


184  BACK  TO  BABEL. 

short  0  into  a  short  e,  from  the  fact  that  a 
short  e  is  the  shortest  of  all  vowel  sounds. 
In  such  sentences  as  — 

Ibat  trans  pontem : 
Ibat  per  urhem : 
Ibat  contra  murum : 

we  have  the  appositive  pontem^  urbem^  mu- 
rum^  correctly  attached  to  the  transitive 
words  tranSy  per^  contra,  which  are  corrup- 
tions of  participles,  or  of  similar  words  used 
absolutely.  But  in  such  a  sentence  as  — 
Ibat  in  SiciUam, 

we  have   the  preposition  in  superfluously 
prefixed  to  Siciliam,  according  to  the  gram- 
mar of  analogy  and  imitation. 
In  such  sentences  as  — 

Turba  ruit  ex  oppido: 
Id  dixi  de  puero  tuo: 

I  consider  that  the  words  oppido  and  puero 
admit  of  two  explanations.  If  their  final 
vowels  be  really  long,  then  they  are  defini- 
tives, and  the  prepositions  de  and  ex  are 
usefully,  but  somewhat  incorrectly  prefixed. 
I  am  inclined,  however,  to  think  that  the 
words  are  really  only  crude  forms,  or  name- 


BACK  TO  BABEL.  185 

words,  and  that  their  final  vowels  should 
be  short.  The  final  vowels  of  name-words, 
being  often  the  same  as  those  of  corrupt 
forms  of  the  definitive  cases,  might  possibly 
usurp  the  pronunciation  of  the  final  vowels 
of  these  latter,  which  are  properly  long  as 
being  contractions.  Or,  perhaps,  the  ambi- 
guit}^  would  be  confined  to  reading ;  as  in 
spoken  Latin  we  should  pronounce  the  o  in  a 
name-word  like  the  o  in  cot^  lot^  martello ; 
and  the  long  o  of  a  definitive  like  the  o  in 
wrote^  smote^  hocca :  the  o  in  cosa  being  dif- 
ferent from  both  as  representing  the  diph- 
thong au.  At  all  events,  I  am  convinced 
that,  in  familiar  speech  at  least,  the  ancient 
Latins  would  continually  prefix  preposi- 
tions to  forms  crude  in  such  expressions  as : — 

Id  dixi  de  tuo  patre: 

Non  erat  in  tola  urhe : 

Saxum  ruit  de  summo  monte  : 

Id  feci  clam  meo  patre  et  tua  matre. 

With  regard  to  what  are  called  Ablatives 
Absolute  in  Latin  and  Genitives  Absolute 
in  Greek,  I  am  convinced  that  originally 
and  correctly  we  should  have  no  case  at  all. 
A  case  is  a  relative  termination^  implying 


186  BACK  TO  BABEL. 

somsthing  that  has  preceded  or  something 
to  follow.  If  so,  an  absolute  ease  is  a  con- 
tradiction in  terms.  In  absolute  or  indepen- 
dent expressions,  only  name-words  or  crude 
forms  should  be  used.  I  have  already  ob- 
served that  many  name-words  would  be 
easily  confounded  with  definitive  cases ;  and 
definitive  cases  are  continually  confounded 
with  possessive  cases ;  consequently,  a  name- 
word  might  in. an  absolute  expression  in 
Greek  be  occasionally  but  incorrectly  re- 
placed by  words  really  possessive.  We 
must  not  forget,  also,  that  a  possessive  case 
is  possibly  an  adjectival  word  in  disguise. 

I  conclude  with  the  consideration  of  some 
peculiar  expressions.     In  the  following : 

Vir  erat  excellenti  ingenio  ; 
Vir  erat  prcestanti  sapientia  ; 

the  words  in  italics  may  be  considered  as 
definitives ;  and,  if  so,  their  final  vowels  are 
long.  But  I  think  it  would  be  correct 
familiar  Latin  to  say  — 

Uomo  erat  eccellente  ingenio  ; 
Uomo  erat  prcestante  sapienza; 

and  that  here  the  words  in  italics  are  name- 


BACK  TO  BABEL,  187 

words  or  crude  forms,  and  that  a  preposition 
such  as  de  or  di  is  omitted,  as  in  such  a 
German  sentence  as : — 

Geben  sie  mir  ein  Glas-wein  ; 
where    von  is   omitted,   as    being   clearl}'- 
implied. 

In  other  words,  I  am  convinced  that  we 
have  pure  conversational  Latin,  such  as 
Virgil  may  have  heard  in  his  nursery  by 
the  Mincio,  in  such  modern  sounds  as — 

Uomo  era  di  eccellente  ingenio ; 

Uoino  era  di  prsestante  sapienza  ; 

Meo'  padre  non  e  in  casa  ; 

Tua    figlia    era    donnicilla    di    ammiravile 

venusta ; 
lo  e  meo'  fratellos  eramo  molt6  attoniti ; 
S\  facta  ilia  tua  volonta .; 
Erano  gioveni  toto  pieni  di  virtu. 

I  subjoin  a  pair  of  riddles,  with  one  of 
which  the  future  poet  may  be  supposed  to 
have  puzzled  his  grandmother,  and  with  the 
other  to  have  made  love  for  the  first  time  to 
a  young  milliner  of  Mantua.  The  latter  is 
in  a  rude  dactylic  measure ;  for  Maronello 
is,  of  course,  as  yet  unacquainted  with  the 
severities  of  scansion. 


188  BACK  TO  BABEL. 

*^Quid  fares,"  disse  puellulos  porcello,  *' .'  i 
essem  te."  "  Mallem,  m'  ercule,"  responde  por- 
cellos,  "  me  esse  te,  quam  id  esse,  quod  essem  io, 
quodque  esses  tu."  "  Ah  !  "  responde  puellulos, 
"  si  essem  porcello',  non  essem  porcello'." 

O  mea  bellula,  cara  Puellula, 

In  meo  pectore  quod  micat,  Primiilom 

Est  et  erit  tui  plenom  amore  : 
O  si  calfar'  io  Primuli  ignibus 
Illud  Sequundiilom,  quod  gremi'  in  tuo 

Uiit  me  f  rigidiore  nitore  ! 
Dom  mea  carmiua  vesperi  perlegis, 
Mai'  ominato'  ne  Totulom  impleat 

Crudelitate  te  meque  dolore  ; 
Sed  te,  Puellul',  Amoris  auccellula 
Praetrevolans  tuom  impleat  gremiom 

Debito  tu'  amatoris  amore. 

In  some  of  which  sentences,  I  have  modi- 
fied such  words  as  sapientia^  est^  dominicilla^ 
venustate^  sit^  erant^  pleni^  dixit^  ego^faceres 
dixit^  respondit^  avicellula^  prceter^  only  in 
such  ways  as  I  see  clearly  indicated  in  my 
scanning  of  Plautus  and  Terence,  and  ratified 
by  what  I  have  read  of  Italian  and  Spanish ; 
and  I  have  made  a  free  but  Italian  use  of 
diminutives.  The  boy-poet's  first  riddle  is 
easily  solved ;  if  a  classical  reader  is  puzzled 
with  the  second,  he  may  go,  for  all  I  care, 


BACK  TO  BABEL,  189 

Whatever  may  be  the  flaws  in  the  case 
system  of  my  suggesting,  I  can  at  all  events 
explain  to  a  young  pupil  the  meaning  of 
the  terms  employed,  which  I  will  defy  any 
one  to  do  with  the  terms  genitive,,  accusative,, 
ablative.  If  an  inquisitive  lad  were  to 
question  me  regarding  the  meaning  of  these 
words,  or  their  fellow-inexplicables,  infini- 
tive^ gerund^  supine^  and  participle^  I  should 
say  peremptorily :  "  Boy,  you  must  call  a 
gerund  a  gerund,  as  your  father  did  before 
you."  If  he  still  asked  me  why  his  father 
did  so  before  him  ?  I  should  say  humbly  : 
"  I  don't  know.  They  might  have  called  a 
gerund  a  genitive,  and  a  genitive  a  supine, 
and  a  supine  a  trumpeter.   B  nt  they  didn't." 

You  are  tired.  Reader,  by  this  time.  I 
can  hear  you  somewhat  indistinctly  mutter- 
ing :  "  Confound  these  cases :  do  let  them 
alone."  No  :  gentle  but  masculine  Reader, 
it  is  just  because  these  cases  are  confounded, 
that  I  am  not  for  letting  them  alone.  No  ; 
Reader :  mejudice,,  ilia  antiqua  vocabula  non 
CONFUNDENDA  Sunt,,  quippe  quce  jam  satis 
confusa   sint;  sed  prorsiis  et  in   ceternum 

DAMNANDA. 


190  DISSOLVING  VIEWS. 


XIV. 


DISSOLVING   VIEWS. 


^6g  ^loi  nov  OTco,  ymi  ttiv  yriv  vivi^aa), 
said  Archimedes,  as  I  once  read  in  my  Greek 
Delectus ;  and  it  was  a  very  hard  sentence 
to  parse.  Luckily  for  us  he  never  obtained 
his  stand-point,  or,  heaven  knows,  we  might 
now  be  rolling  on  the  far  side  of  Uranus. 
I  am  inclined  to  think,  that,  if  a  stand-point 
be  requisite,  it  will  be  as  hard  to  move  an 
orange  as  a  world.  For  a  stand-point  de- 
notes rest;  and  rest,  I  fear,  is  denied  to 
more  than  the  wicked. 

The  Hebrews  have  only  a  Future  and  a 
Past  Tense ;  and  by  a  slight  modification 
they  can  interchange  these  two.  Why  have 
they  no  Present?  We  can  hardly  suppose 
a  tense  more  often  needed  than  the  latter. 
It  is  possible  that  this  curious  gap  in  the 
Hebrew  verb  was  caused  by  a  corresponding 


DISSOLVING   VIEWS.  191 

gap  in  our  intellectual  condition.  Let  us 
consider  whether  those  languages,  with 
which  we  are  familiar,  are  better  provided 
with  times  or  tenses  than  their  far-off  Se- 
mitic cousin. 

The  first  verb  to  which  I  am  introduced 
in  a  Greek  grammar  has  the  following  tenses 
usually  assigned  to  it : — 

TVTiTOt},    sTVTTioVy   jiijjai^    Eivipa^    STVTiov^    rhvcpix^ 

Now,  the  root  of  the  verb  is  obviously 
TVTX ;  our  own  tap^  dah^  duh^  and  thump;  in 
the  latter  of  which  words  the  m  is  comple- 
mental  to  the  ^,  as  the  p  is  complemental 
to  the  m  in  the  name  of  the  writer  of  this 
bookling.  Consequently,  in  tvuth), tTvnrov 
we  have  derivative  forms,  habitual  or  fre- 
quentative tenses.  Of  the  original  verb  then 
we  have  only  left  us,  — 

Tvipo)y  sTvipoCy  sTvnofy  Thvcpa^  thuna^   heiTucpeiP^ 

In  other  words,  we  have  only  means  left  us 
of  expressing  future  and  past  time. 

Again ;  tvtizcd^  being  a  tense  of  habitual- 
ity  or  frequentativeness  cannot  be  a  present 
tense ;  for  the  idea  of  the  present  is  con- 


192  DISSOLVING   VIEWS. 

nectecl  with  the  idea  of  a  point  of  time,  and 
the  idea  of  habituality  with  duration. 

Again ;  let  me  search  the  wished-for  tense 
through  the  Passive.  In  my  grammar  I  find 
the  following  tenses : — 

jvTiTOfiai^y  iTV7n6iLi7]P,  Tvq)d'/i(TOfiai,  Turrrjo'o/ywij 
TSTuipo/Liai.,  Mq)dr^p,  M7i7]P,  liTV/ifiuL,  iT£Tti,(/,wr/r  ; 

and,  eliminating  the  tenses  that  are  bur- 
dened with  the  T  or  tT  of  habituality,  I 
have — 

TvjLtui^p  : 

Futures,  Past-futures,  Pasts,  Present-pasts, 
Past-pasts — ^but  no  Present. 

Let  me  search  the  Middle  or  Reflective 
Voice.     I  find : — 

jvTjTOfiaiy  hvnTO^Tjv^  i^iipofiixi^  hvipdfiijVy  hv- 
7i6ui]v  : 

eliminating  as  before,  I  have  for  tenses  of 

the  primitive  verb,  only 

Tvifjo/Liaiy  hvifjd^rjVy  irvndiHTjv  : 

only  Future  and  Past.  No  Present.  The 
dove  has  returned  to  the  ark  ;  but  there  is 
no  leaf  in  her  bill,  to  tell  of  dry  ground  on 
which  the  foot  may  rest.  Close  the  win-^ 
dow  ;  and  let  us  sail  on  through  the  dark. 


DTSSOLVING   VIE^S,  193 

But,  for  a  moment,  Reader,  let  us  return 
to  examine  our  remnants  of  the  Passive. 
We  had  left  us, 

or  in  older  forms :  — 

or,  in  other  dialectic  forms :  — 

Tvn-eQOu-ocQ^     xeivn-eQau-aQ^     irvTTSQafi,     tetutt- 

O'XUQ^   ilSTVTl-OUEQaU, 

And  in  oaaq,  ofieQaa,  t()ouaQ,  I  fancy  I  can 
detect  reflective  forms  of  fi,ut,7'^v,  erroj;  som^ 
esam^  esom;  sum^  eram^  erom.  If  this  be 
the  case,  my  Passive  Voice  has  dwindled 
down  to  one  tense,  hvm]V  or  hvn^qa^ ; 
and  my  passive  can  only  express  the  Past. 
And  is  this  incapable  of  explanation  ? 
Not  at  all.  The  Passive  Voice  is  seldom 
needed :  when  it  is,  the  verb  to  he  alone  can 
help  us.  I  should  say  of  a  man  :  lie  WAB 
drowned^  if  he  were  thrown  overboard  ;  but, 
he  GOT  droiuned^  if  he  jumped  overboard. 
And  when  a  cowardly  ruffian  is  brought  to 
the  Old  Bailey,  we  should  say  of  him,  in  the 
Middle  or  Reflective  Voice,  he  got  hanged; 


194  DISSOLVING   VIEWS. 

which  expression  would  imply,  And  serve 
him  rigliL  It  is  only  a  mawkish  sentimen- 
tality and  a  sham  philanthropy  that  would 
describe  the  circumstances  in  the  Passive 
Voice.  And  let  me  here  observe  also,  how 
ridiculous  it  is  to  tell  a  man  to  go  and  be 
hanged.  The  man  will  tell  you  that  such 
a  result  depends  on  others,  not  on  himself. 
A  passive  imperative  is  a  blunder  in  any 
language.  For  he  substitute  get^  and  the 
above  command  is  grammatical  and  feasible. 
Again  :  I  can  say  of  a  man,  with  gram- 
matical correctness,  he  was  hanged;  for 
both  was  and  hanged  are  past.  But  if  I  say, 
he  is  hanged;  while  is  seems  present,  hanged 
is  undoubtedly  past,  so  that  I  am  using  a 
Past-present.  If  I  say,  he  is  being  hanged^ 
I  talk  nonsense;  for  I  am  speaking  of  a 
man  being  now  in  the  'past  condition.  And 
if  I  say  he  will  be  hanged^  I  have  here  a 
future  in  will  be  and  a  past  in  the  participle, 
so  that  lam  using  not  a  future  but  a  Past- 
future.  Our  own  passive,  therefore,  has 
only  a  Past,  a  Past-present,  and  a  past- 
future,  and  cannot  clearly  express  a  pure 
Present  or  a  pure  Future  - 


DISSOLVING   VIEWS,  195 

But  again ;  let  us  examine  those  termi- 
nations, oiiai^  ouTiv,  taoaai.  They  are 
probably  reflectives  of  tmi,  i]V^  doio  ;  of 
which  I  here  give  possible  dialectic  varie- 
ties :  — 

bXhX  \v  Maojn 

ea^v  saafi  eaofi 

aafii>  eaixfi  eaofi 

aaofi  saafi  saofi 

asom  esam  esom . 

sum  eram  erom ; 

where  an  attempt  is  made  to  express  pre- 
sent, past,  and  future,  by  a  vowel-play  upon 
the  root,  as,,  es^  or  is^  in  combination  with 
the  objective  case  of  the  first  pronoun. 
We  shall  return  erelong  to  this  mysterious 
verb  of  existence,  which  plays  in  so  strange 
and  pretty  and  subtle  a  way  with  the  tripar- 
tite divisions  of  time. 

But  to  return  to  my  riddle  of  the  Present. 
Surely  if  this  time  can  be  arrested  at  all,  it 
will  be  so  in  the  verbs  to  he^  to  do^  to  have  ; 
and  1  seem  to  have  caught  the  shadow  in 
such  sentences  as.  How  do  you  do  ?  I  am 
tolerably  well.  J'ai  terriblement  faim.  But 
neither  health  nor  hunger  are  momentary. 


196  DISSOLVING    VIEWS. 

They  indicate  conditions,  and  conditions 
imply  duration.  And  when  I  read,  How 
DOTii  the  little  busy  bee  improve  EACH  shin- 
ing hour?  the  word  each  makes  of  doth 
a  tense  of  habitualit}^  an  indefinite,  an 
Aorist.  Another  trial  or  two  ere  we  give 
up  in  despair.  God  HAS  mercy  upon  all  that 
turn  to  Mm.  Why,  friend,  this  has  is  eter- 
nal, and  embraces  all  the  past  and  all  the 
future.  And  God  is  good;  but  I  dare  not 
limit  the  duration  of  this  little  is. 

Again,  when  I  say  Pater  mens  me  amat^ 
I  probably  mean  my  father  loves  me  habit- 
ually^ not  at  this  special  moment  more  than 
at  any  previous  one :  if  so,  I  am  again  using 
a  frequentative  tense,  or  an  indefinite  tense, 
or  an  Aorist  tense  ;  which  in  plainest  Eng- 
lish may  be  called  a  what-d'ye-may-call-it 
tense.  Now,  the  expression  My  father  does 
love  me  is  only  a  little  more  emphatic  than 
My  father  loves  me;  and  the- emphasis  is 
given  by  simply  breaking  up  loves  or  loveth 
into  its  constituent  parts,  and  inverting 
their  order.  Hence,  if  the  one  sentence 
refers  not  to  present  time  specially,  the 
other  will  not  so  either. 


DISSOLVING   VIEWS.  197 

Shall  I  then  be  nearer  the  mark  if  I  say 
My  father  is  loving  me.  It  certainly  would 
seem  so  at  first  sight.  But,  alas !  while  is 
appears  to  repose  in  the  present,  loving  is 
saddled  with  a  termination  that  suggests 
motion,  and  this  motion  neutralizes  imme- 
diately the  previous  suggestion  of  repose. 

Let  me  now  pull  to  pieces  two  tenses  of 
old  Greek  and  new  Romanic : — 


TV^b) 

chanterai 

Tvipsig 

chanteras 

liipsi, 

chaiitera 

riyjofisv 

chanterons 

Tvipezs 

chanterez 

riipovcTi^ 

chanteront ; 

1  older  forms  would  be — 

Tvnsaoiti 

clianteraveo 

Tunsaeg 

chanteravsti 

ivneaeT. 

chaiiteravt 

rvniaofieg 

chanteravomes 

ivniasoeg 

chanteravstis 

ivniaevi    ' 

chanteravnt 

Why  dear  me.  Reader,  I  find  my  supposed 
essentially  present  words,  am  and  have^  do- 
ing duty  as  Futures.  They  are  Detective 
Officers ;  Policemen  in  plain  clothes. 


108  DISSOLVING   VIEWS. 

Again ;  observe  the  following  three  tenses: 


canom 

canem 

can  am 

canis 

canes 

canas 

canit 

canet 

canat 

canimus 

canemos 

canamos 

canisis 

canesis 

canasis 

can  on  t, 

canent, 

canant : 

These  tenses  are  called  respectively,  the 
Present  Indicative,  the  Future  Indicative, 
and  the  Present  Subjunctive.  They  are 
obviously  modifications  of  one  tense :  which 
of  the  three  is  the  primary  one?  If  canom; 
then  upon  an  indefinite  foundation  we  build 
our  tenses  of  futurity  and  dubitation.  Most 
correctly.  Were  dubitation  to  rest  on  firm- 
er ground,  it  would  cease  to  be  dubitation. 
Surely  there  is  a  Proteus  in  grammar  as  well 
as  on  the  ribbed  sea-sand  :  an  Isis  in  every 
class-room,  whose  veil  even  a  schoolmaster 
may  not  lift. 

In  Algebra,  I  speak  of  a  man  as  possess- 
ing +  two  pennies  or  —  two  pennies ;  w^hich 
expressions  interpreted  into  common  speech 
mean  that  the  man  has  eitlier  twopence  in 
his  pocket,  or  owes  twopence,  which  he  will 
have   to  give  up  as  soon  as  he  gets  that 


DISSOLVING   VIEWS.  199 

sum.  But  how  can  I  grasp  the  idea  of  a 
man's  having  no  pennies  ?  how  shall  I  illus- 
trate his  condition?  The  fact  is,  the  in- 
stant the  idea  of  a  penny  is  presented  to  my 
mind,  the  idea  of  negation  becomes  impossi- 
ble. What  could  a  man  do  with  no  pennies  or 
nuppence  ?  Could  he  play  heads  or  tails  with 
it?  or  put  it  in  the  bank?  or  in  the  plate 
at  church?  He  might  swallow  it,  perhaps, 
without  doing  himself  harm;  or  give  it 
to  a  beggar,  without  doing  him  much  good. 

I  have  a  dim  idea  that  past  tenses  begin 
with  negative  infinity;  and  that  future 
tenses  end  in  positive  infinity;  and  that 
the  grammatical  present  is  the  mathemati- 
cal zero. 

Are  you  a  little  confused.  Reader,  with 
the  apparent  irrelevance  of  Nuppence?  and 
Present  Time?  If  you  were  the  writer  of 
this  little  book,  you  would  know  how 
closely  connected  were  these  intellectually- 
illusory,  but  practically-palpable  ideas. 

Well,  Reader:  'tis  a  transitory  world: 
let  us  eat  and  drink,  for  to-morrow  we  die. 
What  says  the  Epicure?  Carpe  diem: 
Enjoy  the  Present,   The  Present  ?  why,  it  is 


200  DISSOLVING   VIEWS, 

gone  ere  the  word  is  uttered.  How  futile 
must  be  a  moral  bidding,  that  enjoins  the 
performance  of  a  grammatical  impossibility ! 

But  what  says  the  Apostle?  Here  have 
we  no  abiding  city.  We  seek  a  country. 
Yes,  Friend,  the  Past  is  gone ;  the  Present 
crumbles  beneath  our  feet :  the  Future  is 
a  stern  reality,  and  all  else  is  dream. 

We  are  indeed  walking  in  a  vain  shadow. 
The  inner  spirit  endeavors  ineffectually  to 
express  her  thoughts  by  Language,  Music, 
and  Painting.  Homer,  Mozart  and  Raffaelle 
spake  her  meaning  with  a  superhuman 
clearness.  But,  after  all,  Language  is  but 
a  subtle  intermixture  of  four  sounds ;  den- 
tal, palato-lingual,  guttural,  and  vocalic; 
and  even  these  have  a  tendency  to  inter- 
change. Music  is  but  an  infinite  modifica- 
tion of  a  few  simple  notes  ;  and  Painting 
but  the  skilful  blending  of  a  few  simple 
colors.  Could  we  resolve  them  into  their 
elements,  we  should  probably  find  they 
were  three  in  one ;  and  that  the  one  was 
Silence,  or  a  Still  Small  Voice. 

So  with  the  tripartite  division  of  time : 
asom,   esam.    esom  :    one   word   but    very 


DISSOLVING   VIEWS,  201 

slightly  modified.  Ah !  Reader,  the  grand 
old  Hebrews  had  a  serious  and  subtle 
reason  for  not  facing  the  riddle  of  the  illu- 
sory Present.  They  knew  it  was  an  idea  in- 
consistent with  the  transitoriness  of  human 
things.  And  therefore  with  them,  God 
was  the  only  and  unpronounceable  I  AM ; 
the  great,  eternal  and  only  Present ;  em- 
bracing all  Pasts  and  all  Futures.  He  is, 
indeed,  the  Word,  the  Verbum ;  and  there 
are  parts  of  speech,  his  Ministers,  that 
modify  the  relationship  of  us  mortal  Nouns 
to  the  one  primary  Verb.  For  we  are  all 
governed  by  Him.  They  say  that  some 
are  forgotten  of  Him,  given  over  utterly. 
It  must  be  a  terrible  thing  for  a  Noun  to 
be  in  that  Absolute  Case. 

It  may  be  heterodox  in  me.  Reader,  but 
I  cannot  help  thinldng  these  poor  Nouns 
are  never  wholly  absolute  or  disconnected. 
I  think  there  is  some  Preposition  of  Mercy 
latent  or  understood,  that  links  them  to  the 
surrounding  clause ;  which  Preposition  will 
be  supplied  and  made  apparent,  when  the 
MASTER  comes  to  parse  the  ravelled  sen- 
tence of  circumstance. 


202  THE  KING  OF 


XV, 

THE   KING    OP   THE   ALPHABET. 

There  are  three  letters  that  play  an  im- 
perial part  in  language,  P,  K^  and  T;  but 
the  greatest  of  these  is  K,  Thought  is  the 
soul  of  the  universe ;  language  is  thought  in 
action.  Silent  thought  is  electricity  in  abey- 
ance. Our  brains  are  charged  batteries: 
our  nerves  are  conductors :  with  the  friction 
of  circumstance  the  force  explodes  in  the 
faint  thunder  of  continuously-rolling  words. 
JT,  then,  is  emperor  of  a  dominion  to  which 
the  realms  of  Alexander,  Augustus,  Charle- 
magne and  Kubla-khan  were,  in  compare, 
but  the  farms  of  bonnet-lairds.  He  is  the 
Pluto  of  the  alphabetic  trio,  and  his  dwell- 
ing is  in  the  throat-caverns  of  humanity, 
where,  as  we  shall  see,  he  is  conversant  with 
toil  and  trouble  and  lamentation  and  pain. 

In  conversation  once  with  my  friend,  the 


THE  ALPHABET.  203 

Professor  of  Natural  Philosophy  in  Dunedin 
University,  I  stated  my  conviction  that  it 
was  possible  to  represent  the  vowels  and 
the  primary  consonantal  sounds  musically, 
pictorially,  and  mathematically;  by  vibra- 
tions, drawn  curves,  or  equations  to  curves. 
I  also  gave  it  as  my  opinion  that  we  should 
probably  find  the  vowels  and  liquid  sounds 
represented  by  continuous  vibrations  or  con- 
tinuous curves;  and  discontinuous  sounds 
by  points  or  cusps,  or  those  discontinuous 
curves  which  suddenly  quit  a  plane,  to  re- 
appear at  a  distance,  like  that  runaway 
streamlet  of  Elis  of  which  we  read  in  old 
story-books. 

He  informed  me  that  an  ingenious 
philosopher  had  carried  out  my  idea  ex- 
perimentally ;  had  set  a  suspended  needle 
vibrating  to  definitive  sounds,  while  a  sheet 
of  sooted  paper  was  being  moved  horizon- 
tally against  the  needle-point ;  and  that  the 
vibrating  point  had  traced  upon  the  sliding 
paper  special  curves  for  special  letter-sounds. 
The  m,  for  instance,  was  represented  by 
a  continuous  wave,  which,  strange  to  say, 
was  its  original  shape  in  the  old  Phoenician 


204  THE  KING   OF 

alphab(3t,  as  its  name  was  the  wave-letter. 
You  will  remember,  Reader,  how  m  or  n 
enter  into  numerous  terminations  that  con- 
vey the  idea  of  motion.  The  letter  r  was 
found  to  be  represented  by  a  continued 
series  of  convex  and  concave  lines,  resem- 
bling the  edge  of  a  saw.  I  am  convinced 
that  such  a  sound  as  mud  would  be  pic- 
torially  discontinuous ;  that  every  syllable 
ending  with  m  ot  n  or  I  oy  r  would  roll 
continuously;  and  that  such  a  sound  as 
sticJc^  kicJc^  or  pecJc^  would,  if  pronounced 
with  Stentorian  energy,  make  a  hole  in  the 
experimental  paper. 

In  almost  every  alphabet  the  letter  k 
resembles  a  pole  with  an  arrow-head  or  a 
wedge  fixed  in  it.  Passing  from  the  roots 
of  words  to  derivative  forms,  it  is  subject  in 
all  Arian  languages  to  a  great  diversity  of 
phonetic  corruption.  It  changes  into  c,  ch, 
A,  (/,  gli^  y^  wh^  quh^  qu^f^  v^  w.  In  many  very 
ancient  roots  it  occurs,  in  its  harshest  forms, 
in  combination  with  a  simple  vowel  sound, 
and  unaided  by  any  other  consonant.  These 
roots  will  almost  invariably  be  found  to  con- 
vey the  cognate  ideas  of  sharp-pointedness^ 


THE  ALPHABET,  205 

sharpness,  pain^  fixature  and  conjuncture. 
It  is  the  hook  and  eye  of  language ;  it  is 
reiterated  in  liook^  and  liquefied  in  eye  ;  it 
beads  together  sentences  with  que  and  Kal 
and  X£  ;  begins  all  relatives,  as  qui  and  ^^A^ 
and  05  and  Kelvog  and  ^oti;  and  sticks,  a 
relative  barnacle,  on  to  hie  and  9^?^7i(?  and 
tunc  and  quisque  and  6a(?A  ;  is  embedded  in 
this  and  ^Aa^  and  ovrog  ;  is  the  substance  of 
the  first  pronoun  ;  is  present  in  the  kindred 
and  antediluvian  words  was  and  went;  is 
the  affix  that  gives  his  rhetoric  to  the 
orator,  and  her  music  to  the  Muse. 

United  with  the  letter  n  in  the  root  of 
a  word,  it  will  be  found  to  convey  the  idea 
of  a  cusp  or  barb  or  angle;  and  from  thence 
will  flow  rivers  of  words  conveying  cognate 
notions  of  difficulty^  pressure^  pain  and 
sorrow.  It  is  horribly  obvious  in  hanging^ 
in  whatever  tongue  you  conduct  the  opera- 
tion. And  remember  the  shape  of  the 
Roman  yoke  of  shame,  and  our  own  gibbet. 
The  former  was  the  upturned  angle  of  a 
h^  and  the  latter  is  a  capital  gamma.  How 
ridiculous  it  would  be  to  suspend  a  criminal 
from  a  gallows  shaped  like  a  poplar !   Why, 


206  THE  KING   OF 

he  would  dangle  like  a  minnow  from  a 
fishing-rod,  or  a  blot  from  a  long/  in  round- 
hand. 

And  while  I  am  on  this  lugubrious  theme, 
let  me  draw  attention  to  the  oaiinous  names 
of  (7aZ-craft  and  Ketch^  which  are  obviously 
corruptions  of  CfeZ-craft  and  Tcheh.  Is  it  a 
chance  coincidence,  that  the  root  of  the 
former  word  is  identical  with  that  of  col- 
lum ;  and  that  of  the  latter  with  the  root  of 
Tiviyco^  ayx^)^  ango^  hang^  chohe^  and  Thug? 

You  will  find  the  kn  or  nk  or  gn  or  ng^ 
or  other  varieties  of  this  angular  sound, 
scattered  over  all  the  organs  of  the  human 
frame :  which  makes  me  think  that  the 
w^ords  cliin^  knail^  knose,  knee^  ancle^  gena^ 
ytvvQ,  knuckle^  were  originally  applied  only 
to  the  ruder-shaped  sex,  and  afterwards 
transferred,  incorrectly  and  impolitely,  to 
the  sex  whose  form  is  a  series  of  entrant 
and  re-entrant  graceful  curves.  Observe  the 
statue  of  a  Venus  or  a  Hebe :  you  have  the 
deification  of  curvature:  you  marvel  at 
what  Nature  or  Genius  can  effect  w^ith  an 
infinity  of  round  or  oval  o's.  But  gaze 
upon  the  man  who  is  just  stripped  for  bath- 


THE  ALPHABET.  207 

iiig  in  that  exquisite  Cuyp  in  our  Dunedin 
gallery :  he  puts  one  leg  in  front  of  the 
other;  he  squares  both  arms  preparatory 
to  a  dive ;  and  the  fellow  is  a  dislocated  K. 

The  consideration  of  this  sexual  differ- 
ence of  shape  convinces  me  that  men  are 
but  bodily  consonants,  and  women  spiritual 
vowels.  Your  vowel  may  give  a  flute-mu- 
sic by  itself;  but  your  consonant  is  dumb, 
unless  quickened  to  sound  by  vowel  inspir- 
ation. And  this  explains  to  me  why  no 
poet  can  sing  a  song  worth  hearing,  no 
painter  draw  a  face  worth  regarding,  unless 
the  tongue  of  the  one,  and  the  fingers  of 
the  latter  move  responsive  to  the  influence 
of  love;  and  also,  how,  in  a  celibate  condi- 
tion, women  may  be  suggestive  of  beauty 
and  music,  while  bachelors  are  but  unsug- 
gestive  symbols  of  unpronounceable,  dumb 
nothingness.  In  true  and  perfect  wedlock 
the  vowel  should  retain  its  music,  and  the 
consonant  its  directive  force.  Wherever 
this  latter  force  is  unsexed  or  vocalized  by 
petticoat  usurpation,  there  have  we  in  mar- 
ried life  a  flabby  symbol  of  the  diphthong. 

Again;   the   conjuncture  of  letters,  hn^ 


208  THE  KING   OF 

conveys  often  the  idea  of  connection  ;  as  ir 
cowjunctwiQ  and  Gonneciiow^  and  con  and 
t^vv,  and  link  and  Cevyvvo) :  and  the  aaalo- 
gous  idea  of  mental  power ;  as  in  ken^  gnovi^ 
yvibvai. 

Unite  the  k  or  guttural  with  the  liquid 
r  or  Z,  and  you  pass  from  the  region  of  an- 
gles to  that  of  curves ;  and  you  will  usually 
find  that  kr  will  denote  a  short  curve,  or  a 
rough  sound ;  and/cZ  a  long,  sweeping  curve, 
or  a  reverberant  and  rolling  sound.  There 
are  three  horned  animals ;  the  gnu^  the 
cervus  or  Kti)aog,  and  the  elk;  in  whose 
respective  names  we  have  indicated  the  an- 
gular-sharpness, the  curvilinearity,  and  the 
branching  sweep  of  horns  or  antlers. 

If  you  place  a  p  before  the  k^  you  will 
come  upon  a  host  of  words  which  all  spring 
from  the  one  idea  oi  sharp-pointedness.  And 
you  will  not  often  find  a  root  to  which  you 
may  attach  every  vowel  sound  in  three 
languages,  and  detect  through  all  phases 
the  primary  idea;  as  in  pack^  peck^  pike^ 
poke, punch ;  pac-tum, pecten,  pix^foc-us,  pu- 
pug-i;  TTccy-og,  ni]y'Vm)^  7iLX-Q6g,  Trox-og, 
nvt, ;  where  the  vowels  in  turn  amalgamate 


THE  ALPHABET.  209 

with  p  and  ^,  while  the  force  of  these  latter 
is  distinctly  marked  in  every  word  ;  in  the 
crj^stallization  that  suggested  Jtayog  and 
nv^  ;  in  the  pointed  flames  of  the  focus  or 
fuoco  ;  in  the  tangled  rcoxog,  that  suggested 
the  pecten ;  in  the  flame-tapering  shape  of 
the  pix^  or  nevxrj,  or  pikn,  ot  pine. 

Again;  if  you  put  p  after  k^  you  will 
.  come  upon  the  series  of  words  of  a  very 
different  kind ;  where  the  idea  of  hollowing^ 
or  scooping^  or  digging  out  is  discernible, 
and  the  shape  suggested  is  that  of  a  channel^ 
or  hoivl^  or  skull ;  as  you  may  see  in  curve, 
grave,  groove,  cup,  gulph,  scoop,  ship,  shape, 
schaffen ;  caput,  cavus,  scapha ;  axdnruv, 
yi)aifuv^  yXvcpeiv, 

Our  k  does  not  seem  to  agree  very  well 
with  t.  If  they  go  in  pairs  at  all,  the  dental 
is  apt  to  struggle  for  precedence  in  place 
and  predominance  in  sound :  under  all  cir- 
cumstances he  holds  his  own. 

I  have  endeavored  to  show,  then,  that 
there  are  a  series  of  classes  ;  each  class  com- 
prehending a  very  great  number  of  words  ; 
of  which  classes — 

One  consists  of  words  where  k,  or  some 


210  THE  KING  OF 

equivalent,  is  in  combination  only  with 
a  vowel ; 

A  second  of  words,  where  Ic  is  in  com- 
bination with  the  ringing  nasal  7i ; 

A  third,  were  h  and  r  combined ; 

A  fourth,  where  h  and  I ; 

A  fifth,  where  f  and  k  ; 

A  sixth,  where  h  and  ^. 

It  would  thin  a  dictionary  remarkably  to 
remove  from  it  every  word  that  could  be 
brought  under  one  of  the  above  six  cate- 
gories. I  should  have  no  objection  to  such 
a  removal,  could  we  simultaneously  remove 
all  the  pain  and  sorrow  of  which  the  gut- 
tural words  are  the  exponents.  Your  Gaelic 
mountaineer  and  honest  Teuton  retain  the 
guttural  in  all  its  pristine  harshness.  Your 
effeminate  southern  discards  it ;  but  there 
is  as  much  of  virulence  in  his  odiare^  that 
has  lost  his  chief  letter,  as  in  the  hate  that 
has  softened  it,  or  thei'/^og  where  it  shows 
in  force. 

Our  conversation,  then,  would  be  wonder- 
fully limited,  if  the  k  or  its  equivalents  were 
eliminated  No  wonder,  you  will  say :  for  is 
not  k  the  guttural;  and  is  not  the  guttural 


THE  ALPHABET.  211 

the  specific  sound  of  the  throat,  the  channel- 
pipe  of  all  sounds?  Of  course  it  is,  Reader, 
and  all  our  Fs,  and  half  our  wickednesses 
come  out  of  it;  and  if  they  stuck  there  thej^ 
might  choke  us;  and  if  they  did,  we  might 
be  submitted  to  a  post-mortem  examination, 
and  the  doctors  would  all  agree  that,  in  ad- 
dition to  the  disobedience  of  our  first  par- 
ents, there  had  been  a  conspiracy  of  garot- 
ting  gutturals  concerned  in  our  cJioking, 

But,  Reader,  I  have  hitherto  amused  my- 
self, and  perhaps  wearied  you,  with  discur- 
sive bantering  upon  a  really  solemn  sub- 
ject. All  human  knowledge,  as  you  are 
aware,  was  obtained  by  the  sacrifice  of  im- 
mortal simplicity.  The  letters  of  the  alpha- 
bet are  the  elemental  atoms  of  all  language ; 
language  is  the  poor  human  exponent  of  all 
knowledge ;  and  Solomon  has  told  us — and 
we  might  have  learnt  it  without  his  telling 
— that  all  knowledge  is  but  vanity ;  that  he 
who  gathereth  knowledge,  doth  but  garner 
sorrow.  For  let  the  Sun  shine  ever  so 
brightly,  he  cannot  pierce  the  darkness  that 
Sin  has  brought  into  the  world ;  and  let  the 
winds   make  ever  so  tuneful  music,  they 


212  KING  OF  THE  ALPHABET. 

cannot  drown  that  universal  cry  of  pain 
which  Death,  who  is  the  child  of  sin,  wrings 
out  of  poor  guilty  Humanity,  and  poor  in- 
nocent, dumb  Beastdom. 

And  now.  Reader,  you  are  more  than 
prepared  for  my  concluding  statement.  It 
must  be  as  obvious  to  you  as  to  me  that 
this  horrible  K^  whose  catholic  angularity  is 
at  work  in  all  our  bodily  agues^  stomachic 
acidities^  heart-acAe^,  and  ^ovl-agonies ;  in 
the  canker-woi^m.  of  remorse ;  in  the  cegri- 
tudo  of  a  body  or  a  mind  diseased ;  in  the 
axta  of  the  sorrowful;  the  tl'^ta  of  the 
wounded;  the  y,{oy.v%ol  of  the  mourner;  and 
the  y.ay/ia  of  us  all ;  is  the  stern  aNAFKr] 
of  the  Greek,  and  the  dura  N'EK-essitas  of 
the  Roman;  whom  we  vainly  attempt  to 
propitiate,  by  a  change  of  gender  and  an 
irreverently-familiar  epithet,  in  our  soubri- 
quet of  OLD  NICK. 


FALLACIES,  21o 


XVI. 

FALLACIES. 

"  There  is  nothing  new  under  the  sun," 
said  Solomon ;  and  his  apophthegm  was  as 
old  as  the  truth  it  embodied.  "  Our  learn- 
ing is  but  recollection,"  said  Plato;  and 
what  a  deal  he  must  have  known,  ere  his 
memory  was  dimmed  by  his  humanity! 
"  What  hath  been,  is,  and  will  be,"  said, 
or  thought,  Pythagoras ;  and  the  sentiment 
was  as  true  and  trite  as  that  of  King  Sol- 
omon. 

Wise  men  of  old  have  given  us  the  potted 
essence  of  sagacity,  in  small  canisters,  such 
as  we  may  carry  about  with  us,  without 
trouble,  to  the  Equator  or  either  Pole. 
Alas !  too  often,  in  starting  on  our  life- 
journey,  we  hamper  ourselves  with  burden- 
some provisions,  that  are  found  in  a  green 
mould  ere  the  journey  is  half  over. 


214  FALLACIES. 

Keeping  in  view  the  maxims  above 
quoted,  and  that  of  Plato  in  particular,  let 
us  review  the  several  words  that  at  various 
times  have  been  adopted  to  define  or  specify 
the  occupation  of  a  school-master. 

He  may  be  called  a  Teacher.  But  the 
root  of  the  verb  teach  is  the  middle  syllable 
of  the  word  inc?/^ate  ;  and  he  who  teaches, 
merely  points  out  this  or  that  with  his 
digits^  doigts^  or  toes  ;  and  it  is  obvious  that 
the  objects,  to  which  he  points,  must  be  ex- 
traneous to  himself. 

Or  he  may  be  said  to  be  employed  in 
the  business  of  instruction  or  edification. 
But  these  are  simple  building  terms ;  and 
no  bricklayer  can  make  a  wall  out  of  his 
own  head,  however  thick  that  head  may  be. 

Or,  again,  in  old-fashioned  speech,  for 
which  we  have  Old  Testament  authority,  he 
may  be  said  to  learn  his  pupils  this  or  that 
language  or  science.  And  herein  I  observe 
how  directly  vulgar  speech  goes  to  the  bull's 
eye  of  truth.  For  the  verb  learn  may  be 
used  in  a  sort  of  reflective  sense  ;  and  a  man, 
who  teaches  Latin  to  his  pupils,  may  be  said 
to  get  them  to  learn  or  recollect  Latin. 


FALLACIES,  215 

I  have  known  a  teacher  of  French  laugh 
most  unphilosophically  at  a  pupil  —  behind 
his  back  —  for  pronouncing  chie7i  like  cay- 
enne. But  the  boy  was  in  the  right.  The 
substance  of  cliien  he  had  been  familiar  with 
from  childhood  in  the  shape  of  its  English 
homonym,  hound :  it  was  only  with  its  ac- 
cidents that  he  was  unacquainted.  How 
on  earth  could  he,  as  a  reasonable  being, 
guess  that  a  nation,  in  pronouncing  such 
a  word,  would  insist  upon  mis-pronouncing 
the  strong  guttural  cl^  upon  dropping  the 
final  /I,  and  sounding  the  word  as  though 
there  were  a  ^  a  mile  off?  Depend  upon  it, 
any  logical  little  fellow  will  pronounce  the 
word  correctly,^  until  he  learns  from  his 
instructor  how  unreasonable  and  incorrect 
are  the  rules  of  speech. 

Again ;  a  teacher  of  Latin  is  apt  to  deal 
harshly  with  a  novice  who,  in  a  catholic 
spirit,  makes  boiius  agree  with  a  single 
soldier  in  the  nominative,  or  a  dozen  old 
women  in  the  ablative.  The  fact  is,  the  boy 
would  be  wrong  if  he  did  anything  else  at 
starting.  He  is  unconsciously  making  an 
improvement  in  language,  which  we  prac- 


216  FALLACIES. 

tical  people  in  England  made  long  ago ;  to 
which  the  French,  Italians,  and  Spaniards 
have  partially  advanced ;  and  towards  which 
the  Germans  are  progressing  with  the  same 
rapidity  that  characterizes  their  diplomacy. 

The  logical  and  praiseworthy  pupil  is  in- 
culcating the  absurdity  of  saying  one  thing 
twice  over.  "  Why,"  he  argues,  "  in  the  fol- 
lowing sentence,  I  am  a  sensible  lad^  I  am 
quite  aware  that  lad  is  nominative  and  sinr 
gular  and  masculine.,  and  also  that  a  and  sen- 
sible are  inseparably  connected  with  it,  from 
the  mere  meaning  of  the  passage.  Why  then 
should  I  bother  myself  about  their  spelling, 
for  the  purpose  of  proving  to  myself  by  oc- 
ular means  what  I  know  by  the  inspiration 
of  mother-wit  ?  " 

Hereupon,  the  Master  will  say  to  the 
logical  but  troublesome  student :  "  Sir,  the 
people  of  ancient  Italy,  like  many  other 
ancient  people,  had  very  musical  ears ;  and 
consequently,  when  words  agreed  together 
in  sense,  they  wished  them  to  agree  in  sound. 
Not  that  the  latter  agreement  was  absolutely 
requisite.  It  w^as  probably  a  harmony  that 
owed  its  origin  to  an  aural  civilization  of 


FALLACIES,  217 

music  and  speech,  and  its  decay  to  an  ocular 
civilization  of  logic  and  paper.  Perhaps  it 
was  found  troublesome,  like  the  pretty  pro- 
lixities of  a  rococo  politeness,  and  the  stately 
tediousness  of  the  old  minuet.  But  although 
this  agreement  of  mere  sound  was  not 
peremptorily  requisite,  it  is  valuable  as  a 
suggestion  of  perfect  concord.  Thus,  in 
married  life,  it  is  not  enough  that  husband 
and  wife  should  agree  in  essentials.  I  have, 
indeed,  read  of  a  married  pair  finding  it 
prudent  and  economical  for  one  to  lean  to 
fat  and  the  other  to  engross  the  lean.  The 
one-ness  of  the  motive  might  justify  the 
diversity  of  habit.  But  the  experiment  was 
fraught  with  peril.  I  am  of  opinion  that 
there  is  but  little  prospect  of  harmony  being 
maintained,  either  in  married  life  or  in 
Latin, — or  at  all  events,  in  the  relations  of 
master  and  pupil, — unless  concord  be  pre- 
served in  the  minutest  particulars." 

And  the  pupil  will  now  reply :  "  Well, 
sir,  there  is  much  in  what  you  say;  conse- 
quently, after  this,  whatever  vagaries  a 
noun  may  take  into  its  head,  I'll  take  good 
care  that  the  adjective  shall  follow  the  lead. 


218  FALLACIES, 

If  homo  chooses  to  whistle  into  a  dative 
plural, /(^Zz:r  also  shall  whistle  like  a  mavis. 
But  surely,  sir,  you  are  not  going  to  hurt 
my  hand,  because  the  old  Italians  had  such 
provokingly  fine  ears  for  music?" 

And  hereupon  the  Master  will  smile,  and 
drop  something  back  again  into  his  pocket, 
and  will  think  to  himself :  "  Why,  this 
3'oung  fellow  knows  as  much  as  I  do  about 
the  substantialities  of  noun  and  adjective ; 
it  is  merely  the  accidents  of  their  dress,  or 
sound,  or  appearance,  with  wliich  he  is 
unacquainted." 

Again ;  when  a  boy,  apparently  dull,  has 
his  first  lesson  in  geometry,  he  reads  that 
a  point  has  no  parts  and  no  magnitude. 
Why,  this  is  a  definition  that  would  apply 
to  a  thought;  a  smell ;  the  tail  of  a  guinea- 
pig  ;  to  pigeon's  milk  ;  a  mare^s  egg  ;  or  to 
nothijig-at-all.  I  am  convinced  that  many 
a  boy,  apparently  dull,  would  grasp  the  idea 
of  a  mathematical  point,  who  could  never 
catch  the  force  of  the  above  definition.  He 
could  easily  understand  that  a  solid  body 
occupies  space ;  that  space  is  bounded  by 
surfaces;    that  surfaces   are   bounded   by 


FALLACIES.  219 

lines,  that  lines  are  bounded  by  points. 
And  thus,  from  an  intuitive  idea  of  bulk, 
he  is  led  to  a  mathematical  3onception  of 
surfaces,  lines,  and  points,  without  the  aid 
of  a  single  definition.  To  commence  the 
study  of  geometry  with  a  novice  by  the 
definition  of  a  point,  is  like  commencing  a 
series  of  anatomical  lectures  with  an  account 
of  our  once  cellular  condition,  or  the  biog- 
raphy of  a  polemical  theologian  with  a  def- 
inition of  his  Christian  charity. 

Again :  to  define  a  straight  line  as  that 
whieh  lies  evenly  between  its  extreme  points^ 
is  to  give  a  definition  that  still  requires  de- 
fining; for  the  word  evenly  seems  to  beg 
the  whole  question  at  issue.  I  believe  a 
better  definition  of  a  straight  line  would  be 
that  it  was  a  line  not  crooked  ;  or,  perhaps, 
a  better  one  still,  that  a  straight  line  is  a 
straight  line.  And  if  I  wished  a  child  to 
grasp  the  idea  of  a  point,  I  should  ask  him 
to  think  of  the  sharp  end  of  a  needle,  with 
his  eyes  shut ;  or  of  the  respect  paid  to  learn- 
ing in  Dunedin,  with  his  eyes  open ;  and  to 
aid  him  in  grasping  the  idea  of  a  straight 
line,  I  should  ask  him  again  to  shut  his  eyes, 


220  FALLACIES. 

and  picture  to  himself  an  arrow  so  thin  that 
he  could  shoot  it  through  a  window-pane 
without  breaking  it;  or  I  should  ask  him  to 
imagine  the  course  which  an  ecclesiastic 
would  take,  if  a  bull  were  behind  him  or  a 
bishropric  in  front. 

In  arguing  once  with  a  mathematician  of 
eminence,  I  asserted  that  I  would  make 
clear  and  intelligible  to  any  non-mathemat- 
ical man  of  common  sense  any  symbolical 
expression  however  complex;  provided  only 
that  I  clearly  understood  it  myself.  He 
desired  me  to  make  the  experiment  with 
the  expression 

ao  =  ^0  _  c°  =  4-c.  =  a/^  =  1. 
I  did  so  in  his  presence,  and  was  allowed 
to  have  carried  my  point.  And  the  infer- 
ence I  wish  to  be  drawn  from  this  is  sim- 
ply :  that  mathematical  symbols  very  often, 
like  moral  aphorisms,  are  but  brief  and  con- 
venient ways  of  putting  universally-known 
truths. 

A  pupil  often  dislikes  a  master  unreason- 
ably in  his  youth,  and  eulogizes  him  as  un- 
reasonably in  manhood.  "  Ah  !  "  says  he, 
as  he  sips  his  wine ;  "  what  little  knowledge 


FALLACIES.  221 

I  have  was  all  got  from  old  So-and  so."  Of 
course,  he  does  not  mean  any  one  else  to 
believe  what  he  does  not  believe  himself: 
and  what,  indeed,  is  not  true. 

When  the  praises  of  some  great  scholar 
or  mathematician  are  being  rehearsed,  you 
may  hear  a  master  say  with  a  pardonable 
pride :  "  Ay ;  So-and-so  was  my  pupil  for 
many  a  year."  And  he  believes  in  the  in- 
ference of  his  words,  and  wishes  you  to 
believe  in  it  too.  He  is  perfectly  honest ; 
but  his  inference  is  not  true  for  all  that. 
It  may  be  partially  true :  it  may  be  wholly 
false. 

Your  bricklayer  plods  with  trowel  at  the 
foundation  of  the  column ;  and  the  crow 
builds  its  nest  at  the  top,  adorning  the  cap- 
ital with  natural  bird-lime  ;  and  the  brick- 
layer and  the  crow  deserve  equal  credit  for 
the  pillar's  aerial  grace. 

A  very  poor  teacher  and  a  poorer  scholar 
was  speaking  in  my  presence  of  a  Cambridge 
star.  "  He  read  with  me,"  said  he,  "  for  six 
years  together."  And  I  thought  to  myself: 
"  Had  he  read  with  you  for  twelve,  he  would 
still  have  been  an  excellent  scholar." 


222  FALLACIES, 

I  grant  that  a  vigorous  and  energetic 
tutor  may  cram  to  almost  any  extent  a 
youth,  whose  health  is  robust,  and  whose 
bent  of  intellect  is  very  prosaic  and  very 
acquisitive.  He  may,  with  a  tremendous 
effort,  push  him  very  near  to  a  First  Class 
at  Oxford ;  with  a  great  effort,  he  may  push 
him  into  the  First  Class  at  Cambridge ;  with 
a  prolonged,  but  not  exhausting  effort,  he 
may  push  him  one-third  of  the  way  up  the 
list  of  Wranglers;  he  may  without  diffi- 
culty, but  not  without  patience  and  a  long 
course  of  pdtS-de-Strashourg  feeding,  make 
of  his  pupil  a  Mandarin  of  the  Blue  Button 
in  our  Chinese  Examinations  for  India  and 
the  Civil  Service.  So  in  the  pages  of  The- 
odore Hook  have  I  read,  how  a  dog-fancier 
prepared  an  often-stolen  dog  for  diverse 
markets ;  how,  by  processes  of  rubbing,  pol- 
ishing, cutting,  clipping  and  fattening,  the 
chameleon-hound  passed  through  various 
metempsychoses,  as  spaniel,  greyhound,  re- 
triever, bull-terrier,  and  mastiff. 

But  with  a  youth  of  fine  talents,  and  a 
love  of  knowledge  for  its  own  sweet  sake, 
a  master  can  only  fire  his  ambition  by  his 


FALLACIES.  223 

precepts  and  his  example.  He  can  no 
more  digest  his  mental  than  his  physical 
aliment. 

Does  a  master  ever  meet  with  such  a 
pupil?  very,  very  rarely.  And,  indeed,  if 
a  boy  be  gifted  with  good  natural  parts,  and 
inclined  to  follow  knowledge  for  herself 
alone,  his  motives  for  study  are  nearly  sure 
to  be  corrupted  by  the  foolish  but  pardon- 
able ambition  of  his  parents  or  his  school- 
master. "  How  is  it,"  says  a  father,  "  that 
my  boy  is  so  low  down  in  his  class ? "  "I 
think,*'  said  the  master  to  an  old  pupil, 
"  you  need  not  read  such  and  such  a  book, 
for  it's  sure  not  to  pay  in  any  examination." 

However,  if  your  genius  is  rare,  I  verily 
believe  that  your  dunce  is  a  Phoenix  still 
more  rare.  Indeed,  I  have  never  met  with 
an  undoubted  specimen  of  the  hoohy.  Per- 
haps, a  physically-healthy  booby  is  as  great 
a  rarity  as  a  live  Dodo.  I  have  known  many 
lads  to  be  classified  under  the  category; 
but,  on  investigation,  I  have  alwa^^s  found 
that  their  training  was  at  fault ;  that  the 
gravelly  part  of  their  intelligence  was  being 
ploughed,  and  the  loamy  part  left  fallow. 


224  FALLACIES, 

It  seems  to  me  that,  in  his  intellectual 
capacity,  a  teacher  has  to  point  out  to  his 
pupils  a  writing  on  the  wall,  to  direct  their 
gaze,  and  to  throw  a  good  light  upon  the 
inscription.  It  is  possible  that  young  eyes 
will  decipher  it  more  easily  and  correctly 
than  he  does  himself. 

But,  though  young  eyes  are  sharp,  young 
judgment  is  not  very  trustworthy.  So  a 
boy  may  draw  a  wrong  inference  from  what, 
in  one  sense,  he  clearly  apprehends.  He 
can  run  at  great  speed ;  more  quickly  than 
a  grown  man.  Then  keep  him  on  the  right 
road.  When  he  comes  to  where  many  ways 
meet,  let  him  find  signposts,  with  inscrip- 
tions clear  and  short  and  legible ;  and  be 
very  careful  that  the  signboards  point  the 
right  way. 

I  have  known  instances  where  these  sign- 
boards were  duly  set  up,  but  the  boards  were 
considerably  larger  than  those  we  see  on 
turnpikes,  and  the  inscriptions  so  long  and 
indistinct,  that,  long  before  they  could  be 
deciphered,  it  was  time  to  go  to  bed. 

You  remember.  Reader,  how  Diogenes,  to 
be  busy  like  the  rest  of  his  fellow-citizens. 


FALLACIES,  225 

rolled  his  tub  up  and  down  the  market- 
place. Now  if  he  had  rolled  it  up  and  down 
a  back-alley,  he  would  have  done  no  harm ; 
'  and  it  was  certainly  not  his  intention  to  do 
any  good.  But  in  the  market-place,  you 
may  depend  upon  it,  he  was  terribly  in  the 
way.  There  are  a  great  many  respectable 
men  among  ourselves,  who,  with  the  best  of 
motives,  are  unconsciously  imitating  the  ill- 
natured  Cynic,  and  who  pass  their  whole 
lives  in  rolling  big,  empty  tubs  up  and 
down  our  most  crowded  thoroughfares. — 
Were  you  ever  present,  Reader,  at  a  debate 
in  either  House  of  Parliament  ?  —  In  a  cen- 
tury or  two,  I  am  convinced,  the  policeman 
will  be  making  these  tub-rollers  move  on. 

In  all  her  works,  Nature,  who  is  the 
handmaid  of  God,  is  simple  and  direct.  We 
have  no  well-authenticated  instance  of  her 
tying  knots  for  the  mere  amusement  of  un- 
ravelling them.  Man,  in  the  majority  of 
his  works,  displays  a  love  of  intricacy  and 
obstruction  ;  and  more  so  in  mental  opera- 
tions than  in  handiwork.  A  carpenter 
comes  provided  only  with  tools  for  chisel- 
ling and  planing,  and  never  turns  aside  to 


226  FALLACIES, 

sweep  a  chimney  or  whitewash  a  ceiling. 
A  surgeon  proceeds  at  once  to  the  amputa- 
tion of  a  wounded  limb,  and  never  thinks 
of  commencing  operations  by  making  the 
wound  worse.  But  a  schoohnaster,  in  teach- 
ing a  language  to  a  young  pupil,  burdens 
his  lessons  with  explanations  that  are  infi- 
nitely more  perplexing  than  their  subject. 
Many  a  child  would  have  found  Latin  easy 
and  interesting,  had  we  not  been  at  such 
pains  to  make  it  difficult  and  dull. 

Many  a  child  would  find  the  Lord's  day 
a  day  of  calm  and  happiness ;  would  grow 
up  in  the  belief  that  religion  was  a  sweet 
and  pleasant  thing ;  that  virtue  was  not  a 
hardship ;  that  vice  was  of  itself  detestable ; 
and  that  God  was  far  wiser  than  even  his 
own  father,  and  kinder  than  even  his  own 
mother, — but  for  those  ingeniously  obstruc- 
tive means  that  divines  have  invented  for 
the  purpose  of  checking  the  spontaneous 
spirituality  of  children.  A  child  is  supposed 
to  be  religiously  brought  up,  if  his  Sunday 
hours  are  choked  with  liturgies  and  collects 
and  catechisms.  He  repeats  definitions  of 
doctrines  that  are  beyond  the  comprehension 


FALLACIES.  227 

of  humanity.  He  is  taught  to  regard  as 
sinful,  actions  as  extraneous  to  morality  as 
the  neighing  of  a  horse.  His  duty  to  God 
is  made  obscure  by  the  midnight  of  super- 
lluous  words.  His  duty  to  his  neighbor, 
that  intuition  or  example  would  impercept- 
ibly have  taught,  is  made  odious  by  being 
communicated  in  a  long  and  difficult  for- 
mula, which  he  has  to  repeat  like  a  parrot. 
He  prattles  innocently  of  so  wonderful  a 
doctrine  as  that  of  eternal  salvation  for  the 
good:  and  there  is  no  harm  in  that:  and  of 
so  terrible  an  one  as  that  of  the  eternal  con- 
demnation of  the  wicked.  But  he  is  not 
told  that  the  word  eternal  means  everlast- 
ing^ and  that  everlasting  means  eteimal ;  and 
that  the  meaning  of  either  word  is  as  much 
beyond  the  comprehension  of  a  Newton  as  it 
is  beyond  that  of  a  theologian  or  a  baboon. 
While  the  jumbling  of  a  child's  mental 
and  spiritual  nature  is  the  business  of  the 
schoolmaster  and  divine,  the  jumbling  of  the 
interests  of  manhood,  social,  commercial, 
and  political,  is  the  prerogative  of  the  states- 
man. How  many  a  petty  kingdom  would 
have  risen  long  ago  into  wealth  and  import- 


228  FALLACIES. 

ance,  but  for  the  obstructive  ingenuity  of 
its  well-meaning  but  tub-rolling  rulers ! 

In  former  days  the  Faculty  of  Medicine 
rolled  a  tub  terrible  as  the  car  of  Jugger- 
naut. Charged  with  a  deadly  erudition,  the 
professional  healer  passed  a  knee-breeched 
life  doing  all  manner  of  mischief  among  the 
people.  To  many  an  one  a  weeping  Martha 
might  have  said :  "  Sir,  if  thou  hadst  not 
been  here,  our  brother  had  not  died."  But 
of  late  years  an  ebb-tide  of  repentance  has 
happily  set  in,  and  the  Faculty  now  set  an 
example  to  other  professions  of  a  reverence 
for  Nature  and  simplicity. 

The  combined  effects  of  the  jumbling 
system,  as  pursued  by  teacher,  divine,  and 
statesman,  make  of  society  an  easy  prey  to 
that  cormorant  profession  which  thrives  on 
the  garbage  of  man's  follies  and  vices.  In 
whatever  country  the  lawyer  class  is  wealthy 
and  powerful,  we  may  be  sure  that  the 
schoolmaster  and  the  divine  are  there  either 
wholly  idle  or  mischievously  active.  For 
the  lawyer  is,  as  you  are  well  aware.  Reader, 

the  very  incarnation  of  the ;  but  no : 

my  chapter  is  on  Fallacies,  and  would  close 
most  inappropriately  with  a  truism. 


NURSERY  REFORM.  229 


XVII. 

NURSERY   REFORM. 

I  AM  very  fond  of  dogs.  They  are  re- 
ligious beasties:  but  idolaters;  for  they 
worship  us.  The  old  Egyptians  worshipped 
them.  The  dogs  have  the  better  of  it  in 
the  comparison.  On  week-days  a  dog  may 
suggest  morality  and  religious  faith ;  but  he 
has  a  painfully  profane  look  on  Sunday. 
Poor  heathen  brute:  he  should  run  into 
hiding-places  on  Saturday  at  midnight,  as 
a  ghost  vanishes  at  cock-crowing. 

I  am  equally  fond  of  cats.  But  they  are 
utterly  devoid  of  religion :  sleek  epicures, 
that  live  only  in  the  present.  They  may 
coil  cosily  into  roley-poley  cushions ;  wash 
daintily  behind  their  ears ;  and  drone  their 
drowsy  little  humdrum  fireside-hymns ;  but 
with  the  best  of  them  there  is  a  faint,  lin- 
gering odor  of  Beelzebub. 


230  NURSERY  REFORM. 

I  should  not  wonder  if,  on  the  other  side 
of  Styx,  some  faithful  friend  were  to  wel- 
come rae  with  the  wagging  of  a  shadowy- 
tail,  and  the  utterance  of  a  thin  and  ineffec- 
tual bow-wow.  But  the  boat  of  Charon  will 
push  a  difficult  furrow  through  innumerable 
bodies,  brickbat-laden,  of  purrless,  soul-less, 
dead-as-door-nail  cats.     Poorc  pussies ! 

But  though  I  love  these  hairy  favorites 
much,  I  love  little  children  more.  And  I 
care  not  whether  they  be  blonde  or  brown ; 
clean  or  dirty;  lordlings  or  chimney-sweep- 
kins.  Not  a  button.  I  would  ratlier  they 
were  not  too  good  ;  or  goody.  Let  us  have 
a  little  naughtiness,  sprinkled  in  at  inter- 
vals :  it  gives  a  flavor  to  the  insipidity  of 
vegetable  innocence. 

A  Pharisee  is  not  a  pleasant  object,  be  he 
clad  in  swallow-tails  or  cotton  frock.  And 
there  is  a  social  Pharisee  as  well  as  a  re- 
ligious one.  Clean  face  and  glossy  curls 
must  never  frown  upon  little,  smutty,  street- 
ling  Publican.  No,  no:  it  is  quite  possible 
that  this  little  sparrow-boy  but  rarely  washes 
his  face  ;  more  rarely  says  his  prayers ;  and 
never  blows  his  nose  :  which  practices  are 


NURSERY  REFORM.  231 

common  with  genteel  canary-children.  But 
not  a  sparrow  falleth  to  the  ground  with- 
out our  Father.  Let  us  all  have  a  share  of 
natural  commonness ;  of  wholesome  naugh- 
tiness ;  of  clean  dirt.  Let  us  stand  occa- 
sionally in  the  corner  of  repentance ;  "  out- 
side of  all  joy,  like  Neptune  in  the  cold." 
Then  will  we  promise  to  be  good ;  we  will 
throw  tiny  arms  haft'  round  papa's  neck, 
will  kiss  him  half-way  through  his  yellow 
beard ;  we'll  be  happy  for  ever,  and  ever, 
and  ever,  and  live  on  toffey  and  almond- 
rock.  O  the  bliss  of  making  up !  The  rain 
after  drought!  the  sunshine  after  rain! 
Yea :  'tis  a  sweet  thing  and  a  pleasant  to 
have  been  a  little  naughty. 

Eliminate  misdoing  from  the  world,  and 
you  annihilate  charity.  The  air  is  unin- 
habitable from  a  surplus  of  oxygen.  The 
good  deed  shines  no  longer  that  glistened 
like  a  glow-worm  in  a  naughty  world.  Im- 
agine, Reader,  the  humiliating  condition  of 
a  good  parson  who  has  overdone  his  duty ; 
the  vestrymen  are  better  than  he ;  the  clerk 
is  better  than  the  vestrymen;  the  pew- 
opener  is  suspected  of  being  better  than 


232  NURSERY  REFORM, 

them  all.  Why,  the  church  is  top-heavy : 
another  effort,  and  it  will  stand  upon  its 
spire.  Come  back  to -the  old  ways,  my 
friend.  There  must  be  degrees :  there  must 
be  degrees. 

But  while  I  can  regard  with  complacency 
a  little  naughtiness  in  children,  I  am  grieved 
to  the  heart  to  see  their  eyes  dimmed  ever 
so  little,  and  their  cheeks  ever  so  slightly 
pale.  O  me,  for  the  faces  that  one  sees  at 
times,  so  wee,  and  wan,  and  old !  for  the 
little  tiny  Elders  who  begin  life  at  the 
wrong  end ! 

I  regret,  also,  that  children  are  under 
the  absurd  necessity  of  growing  bigger ;  of 
developing  from  baby-buds  into  boy  tulips 
and  men-cabbages.  They  keep  pet-spaniels 
permanently  small;  but  by  means  that 
imperil  their  little  lives.  I  wonder  if  an 
elixir  could  be  suggested  that  would  keep  a 
child  always  a  child.  Nay :  I  know  there 
is  such  an  elixir ;  and  I  know,  also,  from 
what  fountain  it  may  be  drawn ;  and  has 
been  drawn.  It  is  bitter,  if  you  sip  of  it ; 
but  sweet,  they  say,  if  you  take  a  full  quaff. 
But  he  that  drinks  thereof  cares  not  after- 


NURSERY  REFORM.  233 

wards  for  earthly  meat  or  drink ;  but  passes 
away,  and  leaves  us ;  with  a  look  of  strange 
joy  upon  his  countenance.  And  we  follow 
him  a  little  way,  sorrowing.  And  I  think 
he  must  wonder  at  our  sorrow ;  and  from 
under  his  green  counterpane  must  hear,  as 
from  the  depths  of  a  sweet  dream,  our  cry 
of  Vale  !  vale  !  in  ceternum  vale  ! 

Did  you  ever  sit.  Reader,  with  your  Babe 
upon  your  knee,  and  its  dear,  good  Grand- 
mother before  you  ?  Stretch  out  both  hands, 
and  you  will  touch  very  nearly  at  the  zero 
and  the  infinity  of  life ;  the  mystery  of  the 
forgotten  Past,  and  the  mystery  of  an  un- 
known Future. 

But  to  return  to  our  dogs.  I  am  glad 
that  our  homeless  ones  have  found  of  late 
a  genial  and  kindly  advocate.  But  I  could 
find  it  in  my  heart  to  deprj  ve  them  of  their 
patron ;  for  to  me  they  seem  to  be  appro- 
priating the  children's  bread  ;  and  I  would 
employ  his  humor  and  his  pathos  to  plead 
the  more  melancholy  cause  of  our  own  poor, 
grammarless  little  ones.  I  would  use  all 
my  eloquence  to  dejjict  the  miserable  con- 
dition of  these  sweet  victims   of  parental 


234  NURSERY  REFORM. 

indifference  :  I  would  point  to  them,  as  they 
stood,  blue  and  shivering,  without  a  rag  of 
syntax  round  their  little  loins;  and  show 
them  dwining  away  before  our  eyes  be- 
neath the  pitiless  influences  of  grammat- 
ical destitution. 

And  moved  by  the  eloquence  of  my 
pleading,  and  impressed  with  a  conviction 
of  its  truth,  some  aged  hosier  in  his  latter 
days,  ignoring  the  paltry  claims  of  kindred, 
would  leave  a  colossal  fortune  for  the  reali- 
zation of  my  philanthropic  schemes.  And 
I  should  found  a  magnificent  institution 
in  the  neighborhood  of  our  Dunedin,  and 
should  call  it  the  Caieteum,  or  the  Normal 
Institution  for  the  training  of  Nursery- 
maidens.  And  the  building  should  be  a 
palatial  one,  with  green  lawns  and  shrub- 
beries and  massive  gateways;  and  there 
should  be  lodges  at  the  gates,  wherein 
should  dwell  porters,  whose  business  it  were 
at  distant  intervals  to  open  and  to  shut 
those  gates.  And  I  would  appoint  a  board 
of  twenty  Guardians,  who  should  on  stated 
occasions  dine  sumptuously  out  of  its  funds, 
for  the  benefit  of  the  Caieteum.     And  T 


NURSERY  REFORM,  235 

would  select  a  Governor  of  a  grave  and 
dignified  demeanor,  and  a  numerous  staff 
of  masters  well  skilled  in  the  turning  of 
the  gerund-stone.  And  from  the  Board  of 
Guardians  should  be  selected  a  sub-com- 
mittee of  three  members,  who  should  be 
named  the  Special  Aggravators,  and  their 
business  it  should  be  to  worry  the  Governor 
of  grave  demeanor,  and  to  set  the  Governor 
a-worrying  the  turners  of  the  gerund-stone. 
And  the  palace  and  the  Board  and  the 
staff,  should  be  for  the  housing  and  the 
superintending  and  the  instructing  of  ten 
little  Nursery  maidens,  who  should  be 
chosen  exclusively  from  such  families  of 
the  name  of  Thomiyson  as  should  spell  it 
with  a  p.  And  for  a  term  of  years  these 
little  maidens  should  apply  their  noses  to 
the  outer  edge  of  the  rapidly-turning  gerund- 
stone.  And  when  their  brains  were  cleared 
of  the  weeds  of  nature,  and  mother-wit,  and' 
unassisted  sense,  I  should  send  them  forth 
as  Missionaries  into  the  outer  world  for  the 
reformation  of  our  nurseries. 

And  wherever  these  little  Missionaries 
came,  they  would  sweep  away,  as  with  a 


236  NURSERY  REFORM. 

besom,  all  idle  games  and  silly  puzzles  and 
unedifying  tales.  And  Jack  would  flee  in 
terror  to  the  summit  of  his  own  beanstalk  ; 
Cock-Robin  would  be  borne  unpitied  to  his 
grave ;  and  Mother  Hubbard,  led  by  her 
own  dog,  would  beg  her  bread,  an  exile  in 
far  distant  lands.  And  our  children  should 
be  instructed  upon  those  scientific  and 
theoretic  principles,  which  in  other  and 
higher  departments  of  education  have  stood 
the  test  of  ages.  And  these  Missionary- 
maidens  should  be  furnished,  each  with  her 
Gerund-stone;  and  resolute  parents  should 
apply  the  noses  of  their  prattlers  to  the 
outer  edge  thereof,  as  it  turned  rapidly. 
But,  forasmuch  as  the  process  might  for  a 
while  prove  disagreeable  to  the  instructed, 
the  Maidens  should  be  further  equipped 
with  an  implement  of  hardened  leather, 
highly  charged  with  a  subtle  electricity, 
whose  dexterous  application  to  the  palm 
should  have  the  propert}"  of  endearing  to 
the  little  ones  these  Maidens  and  their 
gerund-stones. 

Follow  me,  gentle  Reader,  into  a  model 
Nursery,  and   behold  our   system    in  full 


NURSERY  REFORM.  237 

operation.  Those  little  children  yonder, 
blue-eyed  and  flaxen-haired ;  fresh  from  the 
Eden,  where  innocents  still  wander ;  are 
standing  for  the  first  time  before  the  mys- 
terious engine  of  their  mental  training. 
From  dawn  to  eve,  this  summer's  day,  they 
are  committing  to  memory  all  words  that 
end  in  oc/c,  as  cock^  hnoch,  block ^  rock^  stocky 
smock^  flock:  beginning  with  a  cock  that 
must  not  crow :  for  the  fowl  is  as  yet  un- 
provided with  verb,  and  conjugation,  and 
voice — most  essential  this  for  crowing — and 
mood  and  tense,  and  number  and  person : 
and  ending  with  a  flock  that  must  neither 
frolic  nor  bleat.  To-morrow  they  will  give 
undivided  attention  to  words  that  end  in 
dom^  as  kingdom^  beadledom;  the  day  follow- 
ing, to  words  in  ition^  as  deglutition^  perdi- 
tion ;  then  to  words  in  ation^  as  trituration^ 
botheration;  and  so  on  for  a  month  or  two, 
till  the  category  of  ordinary  words  is  ex- 
hausted. Then  are  they  to  be  put  to 
wholesome  tribulation  upon  words  that  lack 
a  singular,  as,  tongs^  scissors^  spectacles,  stock- 
ings, trousers,  breeches;  then  on  nouns  that 
lack  a  plural,  as,  butter,  beef,  mutton,  glue, 


238  NURSERY  REFORM. 

alicompayne ;  then  on  nouns  that  lack  a 
possessive  case,  as  gruel^  wash-hand-stand^ 
microcosm;  then  on  nouns  that  lack  a  voca- 
tive, as,  ninepins^  oatmeal^  cosmogony^  philo- 
progenitiveness.  And  if,  meanwhile,  they 
yawn  over  the  work,  or  ask  idle  questions 
of  curiosity,  they  will  be  subjected  to  the 
influence  of  the  Electric  Leather. 

When  sufficiently  bewildered,  it  may  be 
irritated,  with  months  of  substantives,  they 
shall  pass  through  similar  ordeals  of  un- 
diluted adjectives,  participles,  verbs,  ad- 
verbs, numerals,  prepositions,  and  conjunc- 
tions. Then  shall  they  be  put  through  a 
course  of  syntax,  which  shall  daily  be  ad- 
ministered to  them  in  infinitesimal  doses, 
according  to  the  received  principles  of 
grammatical  Homoeopathy. 

Then  shall  be  put  into  their  tiny  hands 
the  interesting  and  exhausting  Biographies 
of  the  great  Busbequius  Bungfungus  ;  and 
by  homoeopathic  treatment  each  Biography 
shall  be  made  to  occupy  many  weeks ;  so 
that  the  children,  in  reading  the  death  of 
Palseologus  and  Mithrobarzanes,  and  other 
favorite  heroes,  may  have  forgotten  all  the 


NURSERY  REFORM.  239 

circumstances  of  their  lives.  And  if  they 
read  a  fable,  they  shall  read  it  in  minute 
portions,  so  that,  on  arriving  at  the  tail  or 
moral,  they  may  be  unable  to  apply  it  to 
the  body.  And  in  their  daily  readings  they 
shall  continually  sing  their  verbal  and  syn- 
tactic formulae,  which  shall  sound  like 
mystic  hymns  in  the  ears  of  their  delighted 
parents. 

It  is  true  that  the  children,  by  this 
method,  will  be  powerless  to  express  their 
passing  thoughts,  or  to  describe  occurrences 
that  take  place  before  their  eyes ;  but  they 
will  be  imbued  with  theories  of  speech, 
too  sacred  to  be  employed  in  the  profani- 
ties of  idle  talk ;  and  for  this  their  parents 
will  feel  duly  grateful  to  the  Leather  of 
Electricity  and  the  rapidly-turning  Gerund- 
stone. 

But  ah !  Reader,  all  human  devices  are 
marred  with  imperfection.  My  own  system, 
perfect  as  it  may  seem,  is  lop-sided,  as  it 
affects  but  the  mental  part  of  our  nature. 
It  is  true,  the  lilies  of  the  field  toil  not  as 
they  grow.  The  lambkin  on  the  hill-side 
thrives  pleasurably  into  sheephood :  I  wish 


240  NURSERY  REFORM, 

I  could  add,  passes  painlessly  into  mutton. 
The  beaver  learns  his  pontifical  trade,  un- 
stimulated by  flaps  of  the  parental  tail.  To 
the  brain  of  man  is  decreed  the  proud  pre- 
rogative of  uncomfortable  growth.  No; 
not  decreed  :  in  this  matter,  I  imagine,  the 
sagacity  of  man  has  improved  upon  the 
wisdom  of  Omniscience. 

The  mental  training  of  my  own  boyhood 
was  a  continuous  sensation  of  obstruction 
and  pain.  By  the  aid  of  catechisms,  Cross- 
mans,  and  burdensome  observances,  I  was 
grooved  laboriously  into  a  secure  and  per- 
manent orthodoxy.  My  mental  and  spiritual 
parts  were  furrow^ed ;  but,  alas !  my  physical 
part  remained  fallow.  My  growth  in  stature 
was  left  carelessly  to  my  Maker,  and  pro- 
ceeded without  a  hint  of  artificial  tribula- 
tion. This  flaw  in  our  educational  system 
it  is  my  ambition  to  remove.  I  have  in- 
vented a  mechanical  adjustment  of  powerful 
magnetic  needles,  whose  permanent  appli- 
cation to  the  frame  will  render  child,  boy, 
or  youth  continuously  sensible  of  physical 
growth.  The  feeling  will  be  as  though  five 
minutes  of  acute  toothache  were  diffused 


NURSERY  REFORM.  241 

over  a  space  of  months.  A  youth  will  lit- 
erally develop  into  manhood  through  pins 
and  needles.  We  shall  then  have  realized 
the  perfect  organism  of  the  Roman  poet's 
fancy,  the  — 

Mens  TORTA  in  corpore  TOETO. 


242  DEAD  LANGUAGES. 


XVIII. 


DEAD    LANGUAGES. 


A  DEAD  language :  what  a  sad  and  sol- 
emn expression !  Trite  enough,  I  own ;  but 
to  a  reflective  mind,  none  the  less  sad  and 
solemn ;  for  in  the  death  of  which  it  speaks 
are  involved  deaths  untold,  innumerable. 

I  can  understand  what  is  meant  by  "  a 
Dead  Sea;"  and  should  suppose  it  to  be  a 
sheet  of  water  cut  off  from  all  intercourse 
with  the  main  ocean ;  never  rising  with  its 
flow ;  never  sinking  with  its  ebb ;  never 
skimmed  by  the  sail  of  commerce ;  never 
flapped  by  wing  of  wandering  bird ;  undis- 
turbed by  the  bustle  of  the  restless  world ; 
but  slumbering  in  a  desolate  wilderness,  far 
from  the  track  of  caravan,  or  railwa}^,  or 
steamship,  in  a  stagnant,  and  tide-forgotten 
and  unheeded  repose. 

The  chance-directed  efforts  of  an  enter- 


DEAD  LANGUAGES.  243 

prising  traveller  exhumed,  but  recently,  the 
sculptured  monuments  of  a  dead  civiliza- 
tion. We  thus  learned  that  Nineveh  and 
Babylon  were  not  only  the  homes  of  con- 
quering kings,  but  the  seats  of  tranquil 
learning  and  treasured  science,  before  ever 
a  fleet  had  sailed  from  Aulis,  or  the  eagles 
had  promised  empire  to  the  watcher  on  the 
green  Palatine. 

The  language  of  priestly  and  kingly 
Etruria  is  revealed  to  us  only  by  dim  marks 
upon  vase  or  tablet,  or  by  melancholy  in- 
scriptions on  sepulchral  stones.  That  is, 
indeed,  a  language  unquestionably  dead. 

But  can  such  a  term  be  applied  to  that 
Hellenic  speech  that  in  the  Iliad  has  rolled, 
like  the  great  Father  of  Waters,  its  course 
unhindered  down  three  thousand  years; 
that  in  Pindar  still  soars  heavenwards, 
staring  at  the  sun ;  that  rises  and  falls  in 
Plato  with  the  long,  sequacious  music  of  an 
JEolian  lute  ;  that  moves,  stately  and  black- 
stoled,  in  ^schylus ;  that  reverberates 
with  laughter  half-Olympian  in  Aristopha- 
nes ;  that  pierces  with  a  trumpet-sound  in 
Demosthenes;  that   smells  of   crocuses  in 


244  DEAD  LANGUAGES. 

Theocritus ;  that  chirrups,  like  a  balm- 
cricket,  in  Anacreon?  If  it  be  dead,  then 
what  language  is  alive  ? 

Or  again,  is  that  old  Italian  speech  dead 
and  gone,  that  murmurs  in  Lucretius  a 
ceaseless,  solemn  monotone  of  sea-shell 
sound ;  that  in  Virgil  flows,  like  the  Eri- 
danus,  calmly  but  majestically  through  rich 
lowlands,  fringed  with  tall  poplars  and 
rimmed  with  grassj''  banks ;  that  quivers  to 
wild  strings  of  passion  in  Catullus ;  that 
wimples  like  a  beck  in  Ovid ;  that  coos  in 
Tibullus  like  the  turtle;  that  sparkles  in 
Horace  like  a  well-cut  diamond  ? 

No :  Heaven  forbid  it !  No  !  Pile  upon 
these  twin  daughters  of  Omphsean  Zeus 
mountains  of  Grammars  and  Grammatical 
Exercises  and  Latin  Readers  and  Greek 
Delectuses  and  Graduses  and  Dictionaries 
and  Lexicons,  until  Ossa  is  dwarfed  and 
Pelion  is  a  wart.  Let  dull,  colossal  Pedantry 
—  unconscious  handmaid  of  the  Abstract 
Bagman  —  with  her  tons  of  lumbal  lead 
press  heavily  on  the  prostrate  forms.  For 
a  while  they  may  lie,  breathless  and  ex- 
hausted; but   when   that  is   grown  again 


DEAD  LAN 


wherein  their  great  strength  lay,  then  will 
they  make  a  mighty  effort,  and  fling  high  in 
air  the  accumulated  scoria  of  ages :  like  a 
hailstorm  in  the  surrounding  sea  will  fall 
the  fragments  of  a  million  gerund-stones  ; 
and  the  divine  Twain  will  clothe  themselves 
anew  in  their  old  strength  and  beauty,  and 
sit  down  by  the  side  of  Zeus  Omphseus, 
exulting  in  glory. 

No,  No  !  The  music  of  Homer  will  die 
with  the  choral  chants  of  the  Messiah,  and 
the  strains  of  Pindar  with  the  symphon- 
ies of  Beethoven  ;  una  dies  dahit  exitio  Aris- 
tophanes and  Cervantes  and  Molidre  ;  the 
Man t nan  will  go  hand  in  hand  to  oblivion 
with  the  Florentine,  divinus  Magister  cum 
Dlscipulo  dlviniore  ;  the  Metamorphoses  of 
Ovid  will  deca}^  with  the  fantastic  tale  of 
Ariosto  and  the  music  of  Don  Giovanni ; 
Horace  will  fade  out  of  ken,  linked  arm  in 
arm  with  that  sweet  fellow-epicure,  Mon- 
taigne ;  Antigone  will  be  forgotten  maybe 
a  short  century  before  Cordelia ;  and  Plato 
and  Aristotle  will  be  entombed  beneath  the 
Mausoleum  that  covers  for  ever  the  thoughts 
of  Bacon,  Kepler,  Newton,  and  Laplace. 


246  DEAD  LANGUAGES. 

Moreover,  before  the  last  echoes  of  Greece 
and  Rome  shall  have  died  away,  a  Slavo- 
nian horde  will  throng  the  Morea  and  the 
Cyclades  ;  and  in  some  crumbling  cathedral, 
Catholicism  will  have  chanted,  for  the  last 
time,  its  own  Nunc  dimittis^  in  the  grand 
imperial  language  of  the  City  of  the  Seven 
Hills.  . 

When  all  this  shall  have  come  about,  then 
may  it  be  said  with  truth :  "  Rome  is  dead ; 
and  Athens  is  no  more !  the  words  of  whose 
wise  ones  w^ent  out  into  all  lands,  and  the 
songs  of  whose  singing-men  to  the  ends  of 
the  world :  their  pomp  and  their  glory  have 
gone  down  with  them  into  the  pit." 

But,  gentle  Reader,  long,  long  before  this 
desolation  shall  have  come  about,  you  and  I 
will  be  lying  in  a  very  sorry  plight,  with  a 
strange  and  not  beautiful  expression  on  our 
human  countenances :  our  quips,  our  cranks, 
our  oddities  all  gone:  quite  chapfallen 
Yes,  Friend,  a  very  long  while,  indeed,  be 
fore  all  this  shall  have  come  about. 


A  VISION.  247 


XIX. 


A   VISION. 


I  WAS  engaged  one  afternoon  with  my 
class  in  the  study  of  that  portion  of  the 
^neid  where  the  hero  of  the  poem  and  the 
Sybil  journey  together  by  dim,  uncertain 
moonlight,  through  the  shadowy  spaces  of 
the  under-world.  And  when  the  lesson  was 
over,  I  begged  of  my  boys  to  learn  one 
splendid  passage  by  heart ;  and  leaning  back 
my  chair  against  the  wall  by  the  monoto- 
nous murmuring  of  their  voices  I  was  lulled 
into  a  strange  reverie. 

For  in  the  darkness  of  the  under-world  I 
saw  three  figures  moving  slowly;  and  the 
one  was  gentle  and  benign  of  aspect,  and 
in  him  I  recognized  the  Divine  Master  of 
Mantua,  "  the  honor  and  the  light  of  poe- 
try;  "  and  the  second  was  of  a  sad  and  stern 
countenance,  who  regarded  the  Master  with 


248  ^  VISION. 

the  admiration  of  a  disciple ;  and  the  third 
was  like  the  Spirit  of  Myself. 

And  we  had  reached  the  rim  of  the 
seventh  circle;  but  from  the  inner  circle 
there  rose  a  stench  so  terrible  and  noisome, 
that  I  looked  aside,  if  perchance  there  might 
be  a  place  of  refuge.  And  in  the  dark  wall 
of  stone  there  was  a  wide  fissure  like  a 
natural  doorway;  and  over  the  fissure  was 
an  inscription  that  I  read  with  difficulty : 

—  PiEDAGOGOllUM    DEFUNCTORUM    SEDES. 

And  the  Divine  Master  went  therein ;  and 
the  stern  and  sad  Disciple  followed  ;  and  I 
went,  holding  by  the  garment  of  the  latter. 
And  the  fissure  opened  into  a  great  vaulted 
cavern,  the  farther  end  of  which  was 
wrapped  in  gloom ;  and  there  were  millions 
of  gigantic  engines  shaped  like  mill-stones, 
and  fitted  each  one  with  a  handle ;  and  the 
handle  of  each  was  like  the  sail-arm  of  a 
ship  of  war.  And  suspended  from  these 
handles  were  the  forms  of  men;  and  the 
mill-stones  were  motionless,  and  the  place 
was  empty  of  all  sound.  And  suddenly, 
from  the  farther  gloom  came  rushing  three 
Erinnyes;  and  the  one  was  armed  with  a 


A   VISION.  249 

scourge,  and  the  second  with  a  yellow  reed, 
and  the  other  with  what  seemed  to  me  a 
long  thin  broom,  from  which  the  handle 
had  been  shorn.  And  rushing  to  and  fro, 
they  scourged  the  susj^ended  figures,  and 
the  place  was  suddenly  filled  with  the  whir- 
ring and  the  creaking  of  a  million  stone 
wheels.  And  the  Disciple  and  I  looked  in- 
quiringly in  the  face  of  the  Master;  but 
there  was  a  look  of  unwonted  pain  in  his 
benign  countenance ;  and  while  we  gazed 
wonderingly,  he  gave  a  shrill  cry,  and  fell  to 
the  ground  as  one  suddenly  bereft  of  life. 

And  when  at  length  his  spirit  revived, 
we  lifted  him  gently,  and  guided  him,  in 
our  turn,  back  through  the  fissure  to  the 
rim  of  the  seventh  circle.  But  we  feared 
to  ask  him  aught ;  seeing  he  had  been  sore 
troubled.  But  he,  interpreting  our  secret 
thoughts,  said  in  tones  gentle  and  very  sad : 
"  They  whom  ye  saw  were  pjedagogi  in  the 
upper  world ;  and  their  business  it  was  to 
turn  rapidly  the  gerund-stone.  And  foras- 
much as  I  w^as  born  upon  the  skirts  of 
Ignorance,  and  knew  not  the  darkness  of 
my  day,  therefore  am  I  doomed  to  suffer 


250  ^  VISION. 

sorely  in  the  spirit  with  the  turning  of 
their  gerund-stones.  And  I  shall  be  paesed 
thereby  for  twice  a  thousand  years.  And 
thereupon,  the  Pedant  shall  sit  upon  the 
Bagman,  crushing  him;  and  the  Pedant 
shall  choke  in  his  own  fat.  And  after  that 
my  spirit  shall  have  rest. 

At  this  moment  I  was  roused  by  the  sud- 
den cessation  of  the  wonted  murmuring ; 
and  looking  up,  I  saw  the  hour  was  on  the 
stroke  of  one,  and  dismissed  my  boys  to 
play. 


THE  LOVE-LETTER.  251 


XX. 

THE    schoolmaster's    LOVE-LETTER. 

0  mea  cara^  pulcra  Mary, 

Qudm  vellem  tecum  concordare  ! 

What  bliss  with  thee,  my  Noun,  to  live, 

Agreeing  like  the  Adjective  : 

Not —  Heaven  forbid  it !  — genere^ 

Si  esset  id  possibile  ; 

But  being  one,  and  only  so, 

Concordaremus  numero  ; 

And  I'd  agree  with  thee,  my  pet, 

Casu  ;  ay,  casu  quoUbet  : 

Likewise,  as  Relative,  I'd  fain 

A  Concord  Personal  maintain  ; 

Thus  borrowing  from  two  parts  of  speech 

The  partial  harmony  of  each : 

Maybe,  from  qui  if  more  we'd  borrow, 

I'd  be  in  quod^  and  thou  in  sorrow ; 

For,  Mary,  better  'tis  to  give. 

Than  borrow  with  your  relative. 


252  THE  SCHOOLMASTERS 

Three  grades  are  in  Comparison ; 
My  love  admits  of  only  one ; 
Only  Superlative  to  me 
Thy  beauty  is,  like  optime. 
O  Mary,  Mary,  seal  my  fate ; 
Be  candid,  ere  it  be  too  late : 
Is  thy  heart  open  to  my  suit, 
V  Free  as  an  Ablative- Absolute  ? 

Do,  while  I'm  in  the  mood  Optative, 
Follow  me,  darling,  in  the  dative : 
Though  I  should  be,  for  that  condition. 
Compounded  with  a  Preposition : 
Well,  sure,  of  all  the  girls  I  see, 
To  each  and  all  proepono  te^ 
Te  omnibus  proepono^  quare 
Thou  art  my  Preposition,  Mary. 
Ah  !  dear,  should  everything  go  well, 
And  love  should  ring  our  marriage-bell, 
Our  happiness  —  to  be  prospective  — 
Would  still,  like  Amho^  be  defective : 
But  V\MT^\-caret  should  we  miss. 
While  Singular  and  complete  in  bliss  ? 
No,  no :  for  a  while,  my  Pearl,  my  Jewel, 
We'd  linger  patiently  in  the  Dual ; 
Or  ere  a  year  had  circled  round, 
In  cursu  rerum  naturally 


LOVE-LETTER.  253 

Some  morn  or  eve  we  should  be  found 

Happy,  in  numero  plurali. 
Then  one  in  heart  and  soul  and  mind, 
We'd  grow  in  love  as  years  Declined : 
Moods  of  Command  and  Dubitation 
We'd  blot  from  out  life's  Conjugation : 
Our  love,  like  all  things  sweet  and  good. 
Were  best  express'd,  when  Understood ; 
Timidly-noiseless,  purely  shy. 

Unheard  of  all,  yet  plain  to  see  — 
Like  peeping  Moon  in  fleecy  sky, 

Or  II  in  Hora  and  Homine, 
But  life,  alas !  to  all  that  live, 
Unlike  true  love,  is  Transitive : 
To  love.  Intransitive  love,  is  given 
To  Govern  all  in  earth  and  heaven  : 
Yes,  Mary ;  the  ring,  that  would  bind  you  to 
me, 

Were  a  poor   Conjunction    that   death 
might  sever  — 
A  thin  frail  et^  and  a  life-long  que  ; 

But  the  link  of  our  love  would  bind  for 
ever. 
And  so,  when  came  the  certain  Finis^ 

We'd  be  content,  my  own,  my  dearie, 


254  THE  LOVE-LETTER. 

Sub  uno  tumulo  duplex  cinis, 

Two  Supines,  in  one  giSiYe^jacere. 

With  folded  hands  upon  heaveless  breast, 
Side  by  side  in  our  little  earth  bed,  *- 

Silent,  as  Gerunds  in  Dum^  we'd  rest, 
While  the  thunder  of  noisy  years  roird 
overhead  : 

And  we'd  sleep  a  sleep,  still,  calm,  and  sweet. 

Till  our  graves  grew  forgotten  and  Obsolete ; 

Waiting  the  Voice  that,  as  good  men  trust. 

Shall  make  Active  of  Passive,  and  Spirit  of 
dust. 


SUUM  CUIQUE.  255 


XXI. 

SUUM   CUIQUE. 

Nascitur^  non  fit^  may  be  said  as  truly  of 
the  schoolmaster  as  of  the  poet.  The  popu- 
lar, but  mistaken  idea  is,  that  any  young 
man,  who  at  the  age  of  twenty-one  is  well 
enough  educated  for  a  learned  profession, 
but  lacks  the  means  or  spirit  to  push  his 
way  in  the  world  of  Law  or  Medicine,  may 
subside  into  a  teacher  of  the  Classics. 
Many  young  Englishmen  think  so  them- 
selves, and  take  clerical  orders  at  the  time 
of  entering  the  despised  profession,  that 
they  may  escape  from  it,  if  on  any  white 
day  a  vicarage  should  fall  from  the  clouds. 
These  are  they  that  are  not  born  school- 
masters, but  made  schoolmasters  of  men. 

In  the  matter  of  education,  Scotland  is, 
in  mauy  points,  in  advance  of  her  southern 
neighbor.      The   middle-class  preparatory 


256  SUUM  CUIQUE. 

schools  of  Dunedin  are  unapproachably 
superior  to  anything  of  the  kind  —  if  there 
be  anything  of  the  kind — in  England.  The 
teaching  of  the  elementary  classes  in  our 
High  School  and  Schola  Nova  is  even  at 
present  far  superior  to  that  of  similar 
classes  in  any  public  schools  in  England 
with  which  I  have  been  directly  or  indi- 
rectly acquainted ;  and  that  includes  ahnost 
all  the  public  schools  of  importance  in  the 
country.  With  a  few,  but,  I  must  own, 
very  important  modifications,  our  training 
of  junior  classes  might  be  made  almost 
perfect  of  its  kind. 

In  our  High  School  is  still  retained  much 
of  the  beautiful  vowel-music  of  Italian- 
Latin.  The  Greek  Professor  of  our  Dunedin 
University — faithful  among  the  faithless,  in 
this  respect  —  can  read  a  simile  of  Homer, 
without  marring  rhythm  or  ignoring  accent. 

In  Scotland,  also,  the  profession  of  teach- 
ing, though  not  sufficiently  honored  from  a 
social  point  of  view,  is  rightly  considered  as 
specific^  and  calling  for  specific  qualifccations^ 
When  Adam  and  Carson  of  our  High  School, 
Melvin   of  Aberdeen,  and   Carmichael  of 


SUUM  GUIQUE.  257 

our  own  Scliola  Nova,  first  apprenticed 
themselves  to  their  craft,  they  left  no  plank 
behind  them  for  re  crossing  at  a  favorable 
opportuaitj"  to  ease  or  affluence  in  an  ex- 
traneous calling.  They  put  their  hands  to 
the  plough,  these  simple  men;  and  there 
was  no  looking  back.  They  devoted  them- 
selves to  the  business  of  classical  instruc- 
tion as  single-heartedly  as  did  the  Apostles 
to  the  dissemination  of  Christian  doctrine. 
They  knew  well  enough  that  spiritual  dark- 
ness abounded,  but  they  left  its  enlighten- 
ment to  another  calling — the  only  one  that 
in  the  dignity  of  usefulness  takes  precedence 
of  their  own. 

And  one  of  them  lived  too  short  a  life ; 
but  they  all  lived  lives  laborious  and  useful 
and  honorable.  From  dawn  to  sunset  of 
their  day  of  toil  they  sowed  the  seed,  or 
drave  the  plough,  or  brake  with  harrows 
the  obstructive  glebe.  And  when  at  length 
it  was  growing  dark^  these  husbandmen  dis- 
missed their  little  reapers  and  gleaners.; 
and  gat  them  home,  wearied  ;  and  turned 
to;  and  fell  on  sleep.  No  foretaste  of 
earthly  glory  sweetened  the  bitterness  of 


258  SUUM  CUIQUE, 

the  last  cup.  From  modest  homes  they  were 
borne,  unnoticed,  to  modest  graves.  But  the 
statues  of  these  Cincinnatus-teachers  stand, 
not  unwreathed  with  laurel,  in  the  Valhalla 
of  great  and  good  and  single-hearted  school- 
masters. With  all  the  other  good  men  and 
true.  And  the  Valhalla  is  not  in  Dunedin, 
Reader ;  but  in  a  great  and  distant  city ;  a 
city  not  built  with  hands;  a  city  more 
beautiful  by  far  than  beautiful  Dunedin. 

About  a  furlong  from  my  own  lodgings, 
in  a  room  as  near  to  heaven,  burns  the 
midnight  lamp  of  one  who  could  read  a 
play  of  Sophocles  ere  I  could  inarticulately 
scream.  He  has  read  more  of  ancient  lit- 
erature than  many  literary  men  have  read 
of  English.  He  has  purified  his  Greek  seven 
times  in  the  fire.  He  has  resuscitated  many 
Aorists,  that  for  centuries  had  lain  dormant 
under  mossy  stones.  He  has  passed,  alone 
and  fearless,  through  waste  places,  where 
no  footfall  had  echoed  for  a  hundred  years. 
In  England,  nothing  but  a  special  interpo- 
sition of  Providence  could  have  saved  this 
scholar  from  the  Bench  of  Bishops :  in  Scot- 
land, nothing  short   of  personal   violence 


SUUM  CUIQUE.  259 

could  have  pushed  him  into  a  Professorial 
Chair.  The  fact  is,  this  man,  with  all  his 
learning,  is  bowed  down  with  the  weight 
of  a  most  unnational  modesty.  Indeed,  of 
this  quality,  as  of  erudition,  there  is  as  much 
contained  in  his  well  as  would  serve  to  irri- 
gate his  native  country.  Heaven  knows 
what  he  might  have  been,  had  he  consented 
in  earlier  life  to  play  in  public  the  cymbals 
of  claptrap  and  the  tom-tom  of  self-conceit. 
But  his  voice  was  never  heard  in  the  Pala- 
verium  of  Dunedin.  My  friend,  in  fact, 
was  ostracized  by  his  fellow-citizens  of  the 
Modern  Athens.  You  may  hear  of  him  at 
Jena,  Gottingen,  or  Heidelberg;  but,  in 
perusing  the  list  of  Doctors  of  our  own 
Universities,  after  running  your  finger 
down  some  columns  of  mediocre  Rabbis, 
you  will  experience  a  sensation  of  relief  in 
missing  the  name  of  Veitch.  Prcefulget  ihi 
nomen  eo  ipso^  quod  non  eernitur. 

In  day-schools,  like  the  two  great  institu- 
tions of  Dunedin,  where  the  boys  only  give 
a  morning  and  noon  attendance  for  five  days 
in  the  week,  there  is  no  call  for  the  clerical 
element  whatsoever.   Their  pupils  combine 


260  SUUM  CUIQUE. 

the  advantages  of  a  public  school  with  the 
inestimable  and  civilizing  influences  of  home 
life.  As  their  parents  and  guardians  may 
reasonably  be  supposed  to  be  in  all  cases 
Christian,  there  would  seem  to  be  no  need 
for  religious  instruction  in  their  school- 
hours  ;  and  it  might  be  thought  sufficient, 
if  such  Institutions  opened  the  work  of  each 
day  with  the  reverent  reading  of  some 
chapter  of  the  New  Testament,  and  a  short 
and  appropriate  prayer ;  and  if  a  weekly 
lesson  were  given  from  the  historical  por- 
tions of  the  older  Scriptures.  Not  to  speak 
of  the  heterogeneous  admixture  of  doctrinal 
lessons  with  those  in  Latin  syntax  and  Rule 
of  Three,  the  boys  are  supposed  to  hear  fam- 
ily prayers  each  morning  and  evening;  to 
attend  Divine  Service  regularly ;  and  to  hear 
the  Bible  read  and  expounded  by  a  devout 
father  or  mother.  The  hearing  of  one  para- 
ble from  the  gentle  voice  of  the  latter  is 
worth  all  the  religious  instruction  that  a 
master  can  impart  in  class,  where  in  the 
hearts  of  boys  the  spirit  of  gentleness  is  too 
apt  to  succumb  to  the  sterner  spirit  of 
class-ambition. 


SUUM  CUIQUE.  261 

However,  the  question  is  different  in  re- 
gard to  large  schools  where  children  are, 
with  questionable  propriety,  removed  en- 
tirely from  home.  Here  I  can  perfectly  un- 
derstand how  well  the  moral  and  religious 
training  of  pupils  might  be  entrusted  to  dis- 
creet clerical  hands ;  and  would  allow  to  the 
chaplain  of  such  an  Institution  a  pre-emi- 
nence in  rank  and  emolument^  as  due  to  the 
sacredness  of  his  calling.  There  would  be 
some  studies,  also,  in  which  he  could  give 
valuable  help ;  as,  in  that  of  Biblical  and 
even  Secular  history ;  and  over  all  he  might 
exert  a  wholesome  influence.  But  I  am 
wholly  at  a  loss  to  account  for  the  fact,  that 
in  England,  the  teaching  of  the  classical 
languages  should  be  considered  as  almost 
necessarily  devolving  upon  the  clergy.  Why 
should  it  require  Holy  Orders  to  fit  a  man 
to  teach  the  heathen  tongues  of  Athens  and 
Rome,  any  more  than  to  teach  the  Christian 
tongues  of  France,  Germany  or  Italy?  or, 
indeed,  any  more  than  to  teach  drawing  or 
music  or  dancing  ?  Greek  and  Latin  are 
important  elements  in  the  education  of  a 
gentleman,  but  they  enter  very  indirectly 
into  the  training  of  a  Christian.   They  may 


262  SUUM  CUIQUE. 

lead  a  man  part  of  the  way  to  the  Wool- 
sack ;  but  they  cannot  carry  him  one  step 
on  the  road  that  leads  to  the  Everlasting 
Gates.  No :  many  children  have  gone  in 
thereat,  that  never  stumbled  through  a  de- 
clension; or  that  stumbled  through  one, 
and  nothing  more :  many  men,  that  in  boy- 
hood fell  through  the  Asses'  Bridge,  have, 
in  spite  of  corpulence,  passed  safely  over 
the  suspended  camel's  hair,  that  breaks  only 
beneath  iniquity :  many  dear,  illiterate  old 
saints  have  outstripped  wits  and  critics  and 
scholars  and  theologians  on  their  journey  to 
an  unaspirated  Heaven. 

But  it  may  be  contended,  that  in  a  Chris- 
tian country  it  is  requisite  to  Christian- 
ize the  whole  curriculum  of  education. 
Granted :  I  question,  however,  from  my  own 
experience,  whether  the  means  taken  are 
suited  to  the  ends,  and  whether  we  may  not 
so  Christianize  our  education  as  to  secular- 
ize our  Christianity.  I  have  known  of  a 
Clerical  Master  who,  on  a  Sunday  after- 
noon, could  set  a  little  congregation  weep- 
ing with  the  rich  mellowness  of  his  voice 
and   the  depth  of  his  pathos;    and  many 


SUUM  CUIQUE.  263 

members  of  his  little  congregation  had  wept 
during  the  previous  week,  and  would  weep 
during  the  following  week,  beneath  the 
force  of  his  arm.  Should  the  same  foun- 
tain bring  forth  sweet  and  bitter  ? 

One  of  my  Classical  Masters  at  St.  Ed- 
ward's was  ordinarily  mild  and  gentle ;  but 
he  was  abnormally  severe  on  the  days  when 
we  said  our  Grossman^  as  the  Catechism 
was  appropriately  named.  There  was  less 
danger  to  us  in  a  false  concord  or  a  false 
quantity,  than  in  unwitting  heterodoxy  in 
the  matter  of  the  Sacraments.  This  was 
not  a  method  calculated  to  render  religious 
instruction  pleasing  in  our  eyes :  and,  in- 
deed, it  was  very  far  from  pleasing ;  it  was 
associated  with  ideas  of  fear,  and  curiously 
jumbled  with  associations  of  Sallust  and 
Xenophon.     It  was  of  the  earth,  earthy. 

But,  apart  from  the  interests  of  children, 
what  can  the  effect  be  upon  clerical  school- 
masters of  their  having  to  devote  nearly 
their  whole  time  and  energies  to  the  incul- 
cation of  secular  studies  ?  Does  it  never 
strike  them  that  there  is  an  incongruity 
between  the  solemn  obligations  they  once 


264  SUUM  CUIQUE. 

took,  and  the  secular  occupations  they  now 
follow?  I  can  hardly  think  that  St.  Paul, 
if  he  were  permitted  to  abide  with  us  awhile, 
would  lay  hands  upon  any  young  Timothy, 
and  enjoin  him  strictly  to  edify  the  brethren 
in  turning  Gibbon  into  Tacitean  prose,  or 
Shakespeare  into  Greek  Iambics. 

Again ;  when  a  distinguished  Fellow  of 
some  great  Oxford  or  Cambridge  college 
condescends  to  accept  a  Head-Mastership, 
he  does  so  on  the  tacit  understanding  that 
he  will  in  due  time  be  rewarded  with  clerical 
promotion.  Maybe  over  a  space  of  some 
twelve  years,  his  capacities  as  •  a  teacher 
will  be  honorably  attested  by  the  Class 
Lists  of  the  Universities,  and  a  sprinkling 
of  Camdens,  Porsons,  Hertfords,  and  Ire- 
lands  :  he  will  have  successfully  conducted 
a  very  lucrative  establishment  of  Boarders ; 
he  will  have  thrown  a  flood  of  Latin  light 
upon  some  ill-appreciated  Equivoques  gros- 
sieves  in  the  Thesmophoriazusse  :  he  will 
have  plastered  some  severe  masterpiece  of 
^schylus  with  annotatory  stucco ;  he  will 
have  published  a  most  interesting  and  pop- 
ular series  of  Lectures  on  The  Bite  of  Con- 


SUUM  CUIQUE,  265 

firmation^  or  the  Laying  on  of  Hands  —  and 
I  may  as  well  warn  the  reader,  that  the  lat- 
ter part  of  this  title  is  to  be  understood  in 
an  episcopal  rather  than  a  paedagogic  sense. 
When  he  has  thus  reached  his  zenith  of 
fame  and  usefulness  in  one  calling,  he  is 
translated  to  another,  entailing  duties  and 
requiring  talents  of  an  entirely  different 
kind.  How  many  a  Head-Master,  beloved 
of  his  senior  pupils,  has  passed  the  autumn 
of  his  days  in  worrying  the  clergy  of  a 
grumbling  diocese  ? 

At  all  events,  if  such  translations  be  right 
in  themselves,  why  should  they  be  confined 
in  their  operation  ?  We  might  transfer  a  vet- 
eran Barrister  to  the  Presidency  of  the  Royal 
Academy ;  or  reward  a  decayed  Admiral 
with  the  Chancellorship  of  the  Exchequer. 

There  is  another  light  in  which  to  view 
the  subject.  There  are  a  few  instances,  a 
'very  few,  in  our  great  English  schools, 
where  men  of  good  repute  in  scholarship 
refrain  from  taking  Holy  Orders.  They 
might  take  these  orders  any  day  it  pleased 
their  bishop  to  hold  an  ordination.  They 
would  rarely  or  never  be  called  upon  to  do 


266  SUUM  CUIQUE. 

clerical  duty.  Then  why  on  earth  are  they 
so  stupid  as  not  to  take  a  step  which  would 
at  once  improve  their  social  standing,  and 
open  for  them  a  path  to  distinction  ?  Why, 
the  ridiculous  fellows  carry  an  old-fashioned 
conscience  trailing  awkwardly  at  their  sides ; 
and,  of  course,  it  gets  between  their  legs, 
and  trips  them  up ;  and  it  serves  the  stupid 
fellows  right. 

A  simpleton  might  argue,  that,  by  such 
a  course  of  proceeding,  they  devote  them- 
selves entirely  to  the  business  of  teaching, 
and  demonstrate  a  special  call  to  that  special 
occupation.  But  this  argument  is  obviously 
ludicrous.  For,  were  it  correct,  we  should 
see  the  highest  prizes  in  the  scholastic  walk 
opened  to  these  self-denying  laymen.  But 
these  latter  are  the  very  men  to  whom,  by 
a  discerning  public,  those  high  prizes  are 
closed  and  barred.  For  there  is  some  mys- 
tic Ope7i  Sesame,  that  unbars  the  gates  to 
all  Head-Masterships ;  and  the  words  are 
known  only  to  the  clergy;  who,  with  the 
consent  of  the  Laity ^  guard  their  secret,  and 
pass  it  on  and  round,  in  whispers,  only  to 
one  another. 


SUUM  CUIQUE,  267 

Not  many  years  ago,  the  patrons  of  a 
large  proprietary^  school  in  the  West  of  Eng- 
land offered  their  head-mastership  to  a  very 
distinguished  scholar,  a  friend  of  my  own, 
on  condition  that  he  would  take  Holy  Or- 
ders. It  was  more  than  insinuated  that 
these  Orders  would  merely  affect  the  fash- 
ion of  liis  neck-tie,  and  the  prejudices  of  an 
enlightened  public.  My  friend  was  a  man 
of  middle  age,  with  habits  and  character 
thoroughly  formed,  and  with  as  much  idea 
of  turning  clergyman  as  of  buying  the  prac- 
tice of  a  dentist.  Consequently,  the  offer, 
though  pecuniarily  a  very  tempting  one, 
was  not  accepted.  My  friend  is  prosecut- 
ing his  journey  heavenwards  with  a  well- 
stored  brain;  a  rather  ill-stored  scrip;  a 
white  conscience ;  and  a  black  tie.  For 
my  own  part,  I  regard  such  martyrdom  as 
utterly  out  of  place  in  a  practical  age. 
When  the  head-mastership  is  next  vacant, 
I  trust  the  patrons  will  make  a  similar  offer 
to  me.  They  have  merely  to  name  their 
salary  —  and  their  Bishop. 


268  THE  SOCIAL  POSITION 


XXII. 

THE    SOCIAL    POSITION    OP   SCHOOLMASTERS. 

Ma]SIY  of  my  School  Vacations  I  passed 
in  Bruges  and  Brussels,  and  made  the  ac- 
quaintance from  time  to  time  of  boys  of 
my  own  age  attending  the  Athenees  or 
Public  Schools  of  these  towns.  Indeed,  m}^ 
own  brother  received  at  such  schools  the 
greater  part  of  his  education.  The  Masters 
were  laymen ;  in  a  country  next  to  Spain 
perhaps  the  most  bigotedly  Catholic  in 
Europe.  The  means  of  coercion  at  their 
disposal  seemed  to  my  young  English  ideas 
barbarously  simple.  No  birch ;  no  cane  ; 
not  even  the  ridiculously  mild  strap.  How 
on  earth  could  pupils  learn  Latin  Versifica- 
tion, or  any  other  useful  accomplishment, 
without  such  obviously  requisite  stimu- 
lants ?  However,  their  Classes  of  Rhetoric, 
or  Senior  Classes,  did  turn  out  well-edu- 


OF  SCHOOLMASTERS,  269 

cated  and  most  gentlemanly-mannered  men. 
But  the  strangest  thing  to  me  was  that  the 
masters  were  never  spoken  of  as  occupying 
any  peculiar  or  comical  position  in  society. 
It  never  seemed  to  strike  a  boy  to  speak 
in  terms  of  ridicule  of  his  schoolmaster  any 
more  than  of  his  Clergyman  or  Medical 
Attendant.  In  fact,  society  at  large  seemed 
unconsciously  to  regard  the  Master  of  an 
Athdnee  as  an  ordinary  gentleman^  neither 
more  nor  less. 

One  of  the. most  polished  and  accom- 
plished men  I  have  ever  had  the  honor  of 
knowing  was  my  brother's  Music-master, 
whose  lessons  were  given  at  a  rate  that 
would  appear  to  us  ludicrously  small.  He 
associated  on  terms  of  perfect  intimacy  with 
families  of  very  ancient  lineage  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  Bruges.  He  used  to  describe  in 
the  most  humorous  fashion  the  treatment 
he  occasionally  met  with  in  English  salons^ 
whose  occupants,  of  undoubtedly  high  posi- 
tion at  home,  were  temporarily  residing 
abroad  for  reasons  of  financial  retrenchment. 

I  have  had  many  relatives  educated  en- 
tirely in  Florence,  and  have  heard  that  the 


270  THE  SOCIAL  POSITION 

masters,  who  visited  the  leading  schools 
there,  held  a  social  position  in  that  not 
nnaristocratic  city  quite  equal  to  that  of  an 
ordinary  barrister  amongst  ourselves.  And 
these  masters  had  no  ecclesiastical  title  to 
raise  them  in  the  social  scale. 

In  England,  at  a  very  early  period,  the 
birch  and  cane  were  engrafted  upon  our 
educational  system.  They  naturally  made 
the  position  of  a  schoolmaster  odious  in  the 
sight  of  children,  and  somewhat  ludicrous 
in  the  eyes  of  the  world,  and  especially  so 
in  the  eyes  of  women.  Now  the  English 
character  is  essentially  practical,  but  by  no 
means  bigoted  to  logic.  Their  political 
Constitution  might  be  theoretically  assailed 
on  many  points ;  but  it  works  satisfactorily 
as  a  whole.  Their  Church  is  an  obvious 
compromise :  its  Articles  are  allowedly 
incongruous:  but  it  works  well.  It  cer- 
tainly never  produces  a  Xavier  or  a  Carlo 
Borromeo :  no  saint  with  apostolic  halo 
round  his  brow :  but  it  also  lacks  the  super- 
lative vices  that  Rome  cherishes  in  her 
catholic  bosom.  In  the  matter  of  educa- 
tion, England  shows  an  equal  disregard  of 


OF  SCHOOLMASTERS.  271 

logic  and  an  equal  determination  of  working 
good  ends  by  any  practical  means.  The  po- 
sition of  a  schoolmaster  needed  backing  up, 
it  seemed,  in  some  way.  Then  make  the 
schoolmaster  a  Clergyman.  Never  mind 
the  absurdity  of  calling  upon  a  man  to 
swear  that  he  will  spend  and  be  spent  in 
preaching  the  Glad  Tidings,  when  A^  knows, 
and  everybody  knows,  that  he  will  pass  his 
life  in  teaching  the  Rudiments  of  Greek 
and  Latin.  With  a  practical  people  such 
obligations  are  generally  understood  in  a 
practical  way;  and  the  practical  way  of 
understanding  them  seems,  in'  this  one  in- 
stance, to  lie  in  ignoring  them  partially  or 
altogether. 

There  can  be  little  doubt  that,  without 
the  aid  of  clerical  prestige,  no  body  of  men 
could  have  continued  to  command  public 
respect  in  spite  of  the  odium  and  ridicule 
attached  to  such  flagrantly  cruel  implements 
as  the  cane  and  birch.  The  former  of  these, 
as  I  know  to  my  cost,  is  painful  in  the  ex- 
treme ;  and  the  infliction  of  the  latter  is 
always  brutal,  and  very  often  abominably 
indecent. 


272  THE  SOCIAL  POSITION 

Now,  in  Scotland,  whatever  our  faults 
may  be  —  and  Scottish  writers  on  the  Lon- 
don press  purge  us  from  time  to  time  of 
our  conceit  —  we  are  acknowledged  to  be 
a  logical  race.  Consequently,  we  call  a 
schoolmaster  a  schoolmaster.  We  no  more 
think  of  allowing  him  to  take  fictitious  or- 
ders, than  we  should  think  of  giving  a  haber- 
dasher the  fictitious  title  of  m.d.  :  and  yet  a 
schoolmaster  in  Scotland  has  certainly  need 
of  any  aid  that  could  be  rendered  for  the 
improvement  of  his  social  status.  The  latter 
is  far  below  that  of  any  other  professional 
body.  Yet,  low  as  is  comparatively  the 
social  position  of  the  Scottish  schoolmaster, 
he  can  point  to  his  ridiculous  but  almost  in- 
nocuous leather  strap,  and  boast  that  he 
has  contrived  therewith  to  maintain  disci- 
pline and  stimulate  to  exertion,  while  a 
wealthier  body,  with  rich  endowments  and 
ecclesiastical  prestige,  have  made  unsparing 
use  of  two  instruments,  whose  barbarity  as 
far  exceeds  that  of  his  own  strap,  as  the  in- 
come of  an  Eton  Provost  exceeds  that  of  a 
Rector  of  our  High  School. 

But   to   revert   to   the  consideration  of 


OF  SCHOOLMASTERS,  273 

the  social  rank  of  a  master  in  a  Scottish 
grammar-school.  The  Rectors  of  the  two 
chief  Edinburgh  Schools  are  exceptions  to 
the  ordinary  rule.  They  enjoy  a  social  rank 
befitting  the  dignity  of  their  official  duties. 
But  how  is  it  that  the  masters  of  classics, 
mathematics,  and  modern  languages,  in 
these  and  similar  institutions,  take  by  gen- 
eral consent  a  lower  place  at  feasts  than  a 
medical  man  of  little  practice,  and  an  advo- 
cate of  few  briefs  ? 

In  the  social  estimate  of  a  whole  order  of 
men,  I  am  inclined  to  think  the  world  at 
large  cannot  be  altogether  wrong.  There  is 
generall}^  fault  on  both  sides.  If  then  w^e 
schoolmasters  ar^  at  fault,  it  woukl  be  of 
use  if  we  could  only  hit  upon  our  weak 
point.  We  might  then  give  it  a  fair  and  se- 
rious consideration ;  and  use  means,  if  they 
could  be  suggested,  for  remedying  the  evih 

I  have  heard  it  said  by  a  gentleman  of 
very  high  position,  and  of  reputed  scholar- 
ship, that  the  subordinate  master  in  a  great 
Scottish  school  is  only  expected  by  a  Scot- 
tish public  to  be  a  man  of  ordinary  attain- 
ments, who  can  drill  his  pupils  well  in  the 


274  THE  SOCIAL  POSITION 

rudiments,  and  just  keep  pace  with  them  in 
their  higher  reading.  While  such  melan- 
choly opinions  are  generally  entertained  of 
our  craft,  it  is  especially  incumbent  upon  us 
to  endeavor  by  our  teaching  and  our  lives 
to  belie  them.  It  is  because  we  too  often 
give  in,  for  want  of  courage  or  proper  pride, 
to  such  a  condemnation  of  our  order  that 
we  continue  to  be  members  of  a  Pariah  pro- 
fession. We  are  too  often  contented  with 
the  limited  intellectual  stores  that  were  laid 
in  at  College.  We  too  often  go  uninquir- 
ingly  through  a  dull  routine  ;  caring  little 
whether  or  no  we  carry  the  inclinations  and 
sympathies  of  our  boys  along  with  us,  so 
long  as  we  get  through  the  prescribed  work, 
and  preserve  a  mechanical  discipline.  We 
are  not  impressed  with  the  fact,  that  a 
schoolmaster  cannot  be  too  learned,  too 
accomplished.  Under  any  circumstances, 
something  of  the  tedious  must  creep  into 
the  routine  of  school-work,  and  it  will  need 
a  wide  field  of  continual  reading  to  enable 
one  to  illustrate  and  vivify  daily  lessons, 
that  vary  from  the  declension  of  perma  to 
the  study  of  the  Agamemnon. 


OF  SCHOOLMASTERS.  275 

The  pupils  at  our  chief  public  schools 
study  German  and  French.  Should  a  mas- 
ter of  the  two  great  ancient  languages  be 
ignorant  of  linguistic  studies,  in  which  his 
pupils  may  be  proficient?  No:  he  should 
outstrip  them  immeasurably  in  every  de- 
partment of  study  that  bears  upon  his  own. 
He  should  be  so  impressed  with  the  dignity 
of  his  calling, — and  what  calling,  save  the 
cure  of  souls  is  more  dignified  ? — so  full  of 
chastened  respect  for  himself,  as  to  command 
the  respect  of  his  pupils,  though  he  may  fail 
for  a  while  to  command  that  of  the  more  un- 
thinking of  the  public.  If  we  could  only 
work  ourselves  up  to  some  such  standard, 
we  might  then  gradually  dispense  with  that 
little  leathern  instrument,  that  still  keeps 
a  burr  of  ridicule  attached  to  our  black 
gowns. 

But,  stop :  am  I  again  travelling  to  Uto- 
pia ?  Let  me  turn  my  hobby's  head,  and 
gallop  back  to  dear  Dunedin.  When  a 
man's  liver  is  out  of  order,  what  on  earth 
is  the  use  of  his  doctor's  telling  him  to  keep 
early  hours ;  to  use  a  cold  tub ;  to  live  tem- 
perately, and  take  frequent  out-door  exer- 


276  THE  SOCIAL  POSITION. 

cise  ?  Why,  his  grandmother  might  have 
suggested  that.  What  the  man  wants  is  a 
blue  pill  or  two.  They  can  be  taken  in  a 
minute  ;  and  he  need  not  materially  change 
his  dietetics.  Could  not  some  such  violent 
but  easy  remedy  be  suggested  for  the  cure 
of  our  social  abasement?  Certainly.  Why 
should  Baring-out  be  confined  to  boys?  or 
Strikes  to  Artisans?  A  fig  for  political 
economy!  Let  us  form  ourselves  into  a 
League  and  proclaim  a  general  Strike  of 
Schoolmasters  !  There  will  be  some 
sneaking  recusants  among  us :  but  we  will 
brain  them  with  their  own  dictionaries. 

Some  Summer  morning  Scotland  will 
awake,  and  find  every  grammatical  fountain 
frozen.  What  fun  it  will  be  for  the  boys ! 
For  a  week  the  parents  may  outface  the 
inconvenience  ;  but  in  a  month  the  animal, 
always  latent  in  boyhood,  will  be  growing 
rampant  and  outrageous.  Gradually  will 
it  develop,  unsoothed  by  the  influences  of 
grammar,  unchecked  by  the  sterner  influ- 
ences of  our  magic  leather.  No  father  will 
be  safe  in  his  own  house.  The  smaller  boys 
will  be  smoking  brown  poper  in  the  drawing- 


OF  SCHOOLMASTERS.  211 

room,  and  the  older  boys  wallowing  in  Bass 
and  cavendish  in  the  lower  kitchen. 

Meanwhile,  calmly  reposing  in  the  still- 
ness of  his  back  parlor,  M'Gillicnddy  will 
be  putting  the  finishing  stroke  to  that  folio 
edition  of  Cornelius  Nepos,  on  which  his 
fame  in  after  ages  is  to  rest;  and  I,  in  my 
aerial  lodgings,  shall  be  setting  to  Greek 
iambics  the  moral  aphorisms  of  the  great 
Tu})per,  whose  terseness  and  originality  are 
the  wonder  of  a  grateful  people. 

Our  hospitable  Provost,  like  his  prede- 
cessor in  olden  days  when  the  English  were 
marching  north,  will  hold  a  meeting  of 
troubled  citizens.  They  will  meet  in  arms  : 
each  father  will  be  provided  with  his  life- 
preserver  of  cut  leather.  One  speaker  will 
tell  how  nouns  are  at  a  fabulous  premium ; 
that  an  adjective  may  not  be  had  for  love 
or  money.  Another  will  tell  the  horrible 
tale,  how  whole  families  have  for  weeks  sub- 
sisted on  the  smallest  prepositions.  They 
will  attempt  a  compromise.  We  shall  de- 
cline treating  on  such  terms.  They  will 
surrender  unconditionally ;  and  our  terms 


278    POSITION  OF  SCHOOLMASTERS, 

—  monstrous  as  they  may  seem  —  shall  be 
as  follows :  — 

A  Schoolmaster,  who  shall  have  gradu- 
ated at  an  University,  shall  hereafter  be 
addressed,  personally  or  epistolarily,  with 
the  courtesy  usually  shown  to  a  second- 
rate  Solicitor  or  a  briefless  Advocate. 

Whosoever  shall  wittingly  and  wilfully 
offend  against  the  above  decree,  let  him  for 
the  first  offence  be  dismissed  after  due 
admonition ;  but,  on  a  second  offence  being 
proven,  let  him  be  sentenced  to  parse  ver- 
batim the  folio  edition  of  M'Gillicuddy's 
Nepos,  declining  all  nouns,  conjugating  all 
verbs,  and  repeating  all  syntax  rules,  usque 
ad  Rei  ipsius  et  totius  Curice  nauseam. 


TINT,   TINT,   TINT  279 


XXIII. 

TINT,    TINT,    TINT. 

It  is  now  twelve  years  ago  that  I  was  for 
the  first  time  brought  face  to  face  with  a 
class  some  fifty  in  number,  of  little  Latin 
novices.  They  all  regarded  me  with  sensa- 
tions of  wonderment  and  awe:  they  had 
but  a  faint  idea,  luckily,  of  the  terror  with 
.which  I  regarded  them.  I  had,  certainly, 
the  recollections  of  my  own  long  elementary 
training  to  guide  me  in  my  proceedings ; 
and  I  had  the  traditions  of  the  school,  to 
which  I  had  been  recently  appointed  as 
master,  to  direct  mj  uncertain  steps.  But 
the  recollections  of  my  own  training  were 
all  tinged  with  melancholy ;  and  with  the 
traditions  of  my  new  sphere  of  duty  I  was 
but  imperfectly  acquainted. 

In  the  middle  of  my  class-room  stood  a 
machine,  somewhat  resembling  a  patent  en 


280  TINT,  TINT,   TINT, 

gine  for  the  simultaneous  polishing  of  many 
knives ;  and  I  was  desired  to  take  a  firm 
grasp  of  its  wooden  handle,  and  to  turn  it 
with  vigor  and  rapidity.  And  an  implement 
of  simple  leather  was  put  into  my  hands, 
by  the  dexterous  application  of  which  I  was 
to  quicken  the  apprehensions  of  such  child- 
ren as  might  be  uninfluenced  by  the  mo- 
notonous music  of  my  gerund-stone. 

And  for  many  a  day,  obedient  to  tradi- 
tion and  to  my  orders,  I  turned  rapidly  the 
wooden  handle,  and  flourished  vigorously 
the  simple  implement  to  the  very  best  of  my 
ability.  But,  strange  to  say,  although  I  was 
then  youthful  and  strong,  and  eaten  up  with 
a  superfluous  zeal  for  my  calling,  I  could 
never  turn  the  machine  without  its  creak- 
ing painfully ;  and  whenever  I  applied  my 
leathern  implement  to  a  child's  palm,  I  was 
immediately  conscious  of  a  thrill,  as  of 
electricity,  that  ran  from  my  finger-tips  to 
the  very  centre  of  my  nervous  system  ;  and 
sometimes,  after  the  performance  of  such 
an  ordinary  act  of  duty,  I  would  find  myself 
standing  before  my  pupils  with  a  heightened 
color  upon  my  face,  and  a  tingling  in  my 


TINT,   TINT,   TINT.  281 

ears ;  and  to  a  looker-on  I  should  have  ap- 
peared as  one  ashamed  of  having  done  some 
questionable  deed. 

Finding  all  my  efforts  unavailing  to  work 
smoothly  and  noiselessly  my  mechanical 
engine  of  instruction,  I  at  length  relin- 
quished it  altogether ;  and  it  has  been  now 
standing  for  years  in  a  side-room  adjoining 
my  place  of  business,  and  is  covered  over 
with  cobwebs,  and  rusted  at  the  juncture 
of  the  stone  and  handle. 

To  supply  the  place  of  its  simple  mech- 
anism, I  brought  to  bear  upon  my  pupils 
all  the  moral  and  intellectual'  means  at  my 
disposal.  I  spared  myself  neither  in  the 
matter  of  time  nor  trouble  in  my  endeavors 
to  educe  the  dormant  faculties  of  my 
charges;  and  enjoying  as  I  did  for  many 
years  a  bodily  health  impervious  to  fatigue, 
and  having  a  keen  sympatliy  with  boy- 
hood, I  succeeded  more  and  more  until  I 
almost  ceased  at  length  to  regret  the  disap- 
pearance of  my  gerund-stone. 

But  the  more  I  gave  satisfaction  to  my- 
self, the  less  I  gave  satisfaction  to  the  ma- 
jority of  my  so-called  patrons ;  the  guard- 


282  TINT,   TINT,  TINT. 

ians  of  my  youug  pupils.  From  time  to 
time,  when  I  was  indulging  in  a  dream  of 
appreciated  toil,  I  heard  of  complaints  be- 
ing circulated  by  such  as  were  favorers  of 
mechanism  in  instruction.  Pupils,  in  whose 
progress  I  had  begun  to  take  a  keen  inter- 
est, were  from  time  to  time  removed  with- 
out a  word  of  explanation  or  the  civility  of 
a  farewell.  "  They  were  not  grounded^'' 
said  these  waggish  but  unmannerly  guard- 
ians ;  meaning  all  the  while,  "  They  were 
not  ground^ 

I  had  almost  begun  to  despair  of  my 
system,  and  to  think  that  I  had  mistaken 
my  calling ;  and  was  casting  about  my  eyes 
for  some  honest  trade  to  which  I  might 
apprentice  myself,  when  one  afternoon  my 
class  was  honored  with  a  lengthened  visit 
from  a  gentleman  of  acknowledged  rank  and 
worth  and  judgment.  After  the  lesson  was 
over,  I  complained  to  this  distinguished 
visitor  that  my  system  of  conveying  in- 
struction, as  being  natural  and  philosophic, 
was  popularly  considered  a  more  difficult 
one  for  a  pupil  than  the  ancient  turning  of 
a  piece  of  mechanism.   My  visitor,  who  had 


TINT,   TINT,   TINT.  283 

a  son  under  my  charge,  stated  his  firm  con- 
viction that  my  system  was  not  only  likely 
to  produce  better  results,  but  was  also  in  its 
operation  far  more  easy  and  interesting  for  a 
young  pupil  to  follow.  For  that  moment  I 
felt  re-assured,  and  determined  never  again 
to  regret  the  absence  of  my  gerund-stone. 

And  now  to  treat  of  the  loss  of  my  other 
auxiliary  implement.  The  application  of 
this  latter,  I  can  honestly  say,  was  never 
made  excepting  with  the  view  of  stimulating 
ever-dormant  energies,  and  of  repressing 
tendencies  to  chronic  negligence  or  miscon- 
duct. I  considered  myself  as  an  abstraction ; 
as  the  embodied  representative  of  the  class ; 
and  used  the  implement  only  to  protect  the 
interests  of  the  latter,  which  suffered,  to  my 
mind,  whenever  one  of  its  members,  by 
carelessness  or  lack  of  study,  turned  upon 
himself  that  stream  of  time  and  energy  that 
should  have  run  uninterruptedly  to  the 
irrigation  of  the  body  corporate.  In  fact, 
I  made  myself  the  dividend  in  a  long  divi- 
sion sum,  whose  divisor  was  duty  ;  the  quo- 
tient, I  found,  was  teacher  -\-  superintendent^ 
and  the  remainder,  personal  identity^  wliich 


284  TINT,   TINT,   TINT, 

was  very  small  in  comparison  with  the  di- 
visor, and  might  practically  be  ignored.  So, 
when  a  little  fellow  walked  after  me  for  a 
few  days  at  the  striking  of  the  bell,  with  his 
hands  beneath  imaginary  coat-tails  in  imita- 
tion of  my  gait,  I  considered  him  as  only 
joking  with  me  in  my  c^L^Koit j  oi  remainder  ; 
and  I  merely  asked  him  to  desist,  as  other- 
wise I  should  make  fun  of  him  in  revenge ; 
and  he  desisted.  And  when  a  boy  wrote 
my  name  upon  the  desk,  I  was  contented 
with  showing  him  how  he  had  mis-spelt  it; 
and  he  rubbed  it  out  at  my  request.  And 
when  a  boy,  years  ago,  put  his  tongue  into 
his  cheek  after  an  admonition,  I  showed  his 
comrades  what  little  control  he  had  over 
that  organ ;  knowing  as  I  did  that  he  in- 
tended to  protrude  it  on  the  side  that  would 
have  been  invisible  to  me.  And  I  may  state 
that  such  trifling  incidents  were  of  so  rare 
occurrence,  that  I  could  enumerate  them  all 
upon  the  fingers  of  one  hand. 

But  still,  although  I  Avas  conscious  that 
I  used  the  implement  with  good  intent,  and 
aware  that  it  was  similarly  used  by  men 
who  were  my  superiors  in  age,  and  certainly 


TINT,   TINT,   TINT.  285 

not  my  inferiors  in  kindliness  and  sympathy 
with  boyhood,  I  was  haunted  with  an  idea 
that  the  use  of  it  was  founded  on  an  error 
in  our  system  of  instruction ;  and  1  was 
long  pondering  where  the  error  could  lie ; 
and  I  found  the  subject  far  more  difficult 
than  I  had  at  first  supposed  ;  and  I  confess 
it  still  to  be  a  problem  difficult  of  solution. 
I  was  in  this  frame  of  mind  one  day, 
when,  according  to  an  unalterable  rule, 
there  came  under  the  influence  of  the  elec- 
tric implement  a  little,  quiet,  well-behaved, 
and  intelligent  foreigner.  The  application 
had  scarce  been  made,  when  a  young  com- 
rade —  bless  the  lad !  —  gave  vent  to  an  un- 
mistakeable  hiss  I  Order,  of  course,  was  im- 
mediately and  energetically  re-established. 
But  in  my  walk  that  afternoon  by  the  sea, 
and  in  many  a  lonely  walk  afterwards,  I 
thought  about  that  little  foreigner  and  his 
courageous  comrade.  And  I  thought  how 
that  little  foreigner,  returning  to  his  own 
land,  the  ancient  home  of  courtesy  and  gen- 
tle manners,  would  tell  his  friends  of  our 
rude,  northern  ways.  And  I  tremble  at  the 
idea  of  my  usage  of  the  Electric  Leather 


286  TINT,  TINT,  TINT. 

being  narrated  in  the  hearing  of  one  of 
those  terrible  Colonels,  whom  their  Emperor 
holds  with  difficulty  on  the  leash.  For  I 
thought  if  ever  our  great  metropolis  were 
in  their  hands,  how  ill  it  would  fare  with  all 
therein  that  turned  the  gerund-stone,  and 
with  those  therein  that  bare  my  hapless  sur- 
name. And  the  name  of  these  is  Legion. 
And  knowing  that  the  comrade  was  no  vul- 
gar and  low-natured  boy,  I  felt  sure  in  my 
heart  that  there  was  at  least  something 
right  in  the  impulse  that  had  pushed  him 
into  danger  and  disobedience.  But  still  I 
was  afraid  of  allowing  sentimentalism  or 
impulsiveness  on  my  part  to  take  the  place 
of  duty  however  stern  and  unpalatable. 

I  was  standing  not  alone  one  morning 
in  the  lobby  of  my  own  home,  just  before 
leaving  for  the  day's  work.  A  great-coat 
of  mine  was  hanging  from  the  wall.  My 
Companion,  in  a  playful  mood,  put  a  small, 
white  hand  into  one  of  its  pockets,  and 
drew  a  something  out ;  then  thrust  it  back 
hurriedly  as  though  it  had  been  a  something 
venomous.  And  over  a  very  gentle  face 
passed  a  look  of  surprise  not   unmingled 


TINT,   TINT,   TINT.  287 

with  reproof;  but  the  reproof  gave  way 
almost  momently  to  the  wonted  smile.  But 
I  long  remembered  the  mild  reproof  upon 
that  gentle  face ;  for  it  was  an  expression 
very  seldom  seen  there ;  and  it  came  after- 
wards to  be  numbered  with  other  sad  and 
sweet  memories. 

Meanwhile,  at  the  end  of  the  last  bench 
upon  my  class  sat  a  boy  who  was  very  back- 
ward in  his  learning.  He  was  continually 
absent  upon  what  seemed  to  me  frivolous 
pretences.  These  absences  entailed  upon 
me  much  additional  trouble.  I  had  occa- 
sionally to  keep  him  and  a  little  remnant  in 
the  room  when  the  others  had  gone  out  to 
play ;  to  make  up  to  him  and  them  for  lost 
time.  And  on  one  occasion  my  look  was 
very  cross,  and  my  speech  very  short ;  for 
it  seemed  to  me  provoking  that  children 
should  be  so  backward  in  their  Latin.  And 
when  the  work  was  over,  arnd  we  two  were 
left  alone,  he  followed  me  to  my  desk,  and 
said :  "  You  have  no  idea,  sir,  how  weak  I 
am."  And  I  said:  "Why,  my  boy,  you 
look  stout  enough."  But  he  answered:  "I 
am  really  very  weak,  sir;  far  weaker  than 


288  TINT,   TINT,   TINT. 

I  look  ! "  and  there  was  a  pleading  earnest- 
ness in  his  words  that  touched  me  to  the 
heart ;  and,  afterwards,  there  was  an  unseen 
chord  of  sympathy  that  bound  the  master 
to  the  pupil,  who  was  still  very  dull  at 
Latin. 

And  still  he  would  be  absent ;  at  times, 
for  a  day  or  two  together.  But  it  excited 
no  surprise.  For  the  boy  seemed  to  sit 
almost  a  stranger  among  his  fellows ;  and 
in  play-hours  seemed  to  take  no  interest  in 
boyish  games.  And  by  and  by  he  had  been 
absent  for  some  weeks  together.  But  I  was 
afraid  to  ask  concerning  him ;  thinking  he 
might  have  been  removed,  as  many  boys 
had  been,  without  a  letter  of  explanation,  or 
his  shaking  me  by  the  hand.  And  one  morn- 
ing I  received  a  letter  with  a  broad  black 
edge,  telling  me  that  he  had  died  the  day 
previously  of  a  virulent  contagious  fever. 

So  when  school  was  over,  I  made  my  way 
to  his  whilome  lodging;  and  stood  at  the 
door,  pondering.  For  the  fever,  of  which 
the  child  had  died,  had  been  to  me  a  Death- 
in-life,  and  had  passed  like 'the  Angel  of  old 
over  my  dwelling,  but,  unlike  that  angel, 


TINT,   TINT,   TINT.  289 

had  spared  my  first-born,  and  only-born. 
And  because  the  latter  sat  each  evening  on 
my  knee,  I  was  afraid  of  the  fever,  and  in- 
tended only  to  leave  my  card,  as  a  mark  of 
respectful  sympathy.  But  the  good  woman 
of  the  house  said:  "Nay,  nay.  Sir,  but  ye'll 
see  the  Laddie ; "  and  I  felt  drawn  by  an  in- 
fluence of  fatherhood  more  constraining 
than  a  father's  fears,  and  followed  the  good 
woman  into  the  small  and  dim  chamber 
where  my  pupil  was  lying.  And,  as  I  passed 
the  threshold,  my  masterhood  slipt  off  me 
like  a  loose  robe  ;  and  I  stood  very  humble 
and  pupil-like,  in  that  awful  Presence,  that 
teacheth  a  wisdom  to  babes  and  sucklings, 
to  which  our  treasured  lore  is  but  a  jingling 
of  vain  words.  And,  when  left  alone,  I 
drew  near  the  cheerless  and  dismantled  bed, 
on  which  ray  pupil  lay  asleep  in  his  early 
coffin.  And  he  looked  very  calm  and  happy, 
as  though  there  had  been  to  him  no  pain  in 
passing  from  a  world  where  he  had  had  few 
companions  and  very  little  pleasure.  And 
I  knew  that  his  boyhood  had  been  as  dreary 
as  it  had  been  short ;  and  I  thought  that 
the  good  woman  of  his  lodging  had  perhaps 


290  TINT,   TINT,   TINT, 

been  his  only  sympathizing  friend  at  hand. 
And  I  communed  with  myself  whether 
aught  I  had  done  could  have  made  his  dul- 
ness  more  dull.  And  I  felt  thankful  for  the 
chord  of  sympathy  that  had  united  us,  un- 
seen, for  a  little  while.  But,  in  a  strange 
and  painful  way,  I  stood  rebuked  before 
the  calm  and  solemn  and  unrebuking  face 
of  the  child  on  whom  I  had  frowned  for  his 
being  backward  in  his  Latin. 

That  evening,  as  usual,  my  own  child  was 
seated  on  my  knee,  making  sunrise  out  of 
sunset  for  myself  and  his  Mother's  mother. 
And  the  table  was  alive  with  moo-cows,  and 
bow-wows,  and  silly  sheep.  And  we  sang 
snatches  of  impossible  songs ;  or  hid  our- 
selves behind  chairs  and  curtains  in  a  bare- 
faced and  ■  undeceitful  manner.  And  the 
Penates  at  my  hearth,  that  were  chipped 
and  broken,  blinked  merrily  by  the  fire- 
light ;  and  the  child  was  taken  to  his  tiny 
bed ;  and  the  chipped  Penates,  thereupon, 
slowly  faded  out  of  view,  and  disappeared 
among  the  cinders. 

And  I  sat,  musing;  alone.  And  yet  not 
all  alone.    For  in  the  chair,  where  recently 


TINT,  TINT,   TINT,  291 

had  been  sitting  the  mother  of  my  child's 
Mother,  there  sat  a  grey,  transparent  Shape, 
And  the  Shape  and  I  were  familiar  friends. 
lie  had  sat  with  me  many  a  time  from  mid- 
night until  when  the  morning  had  come 
peeping  through  the  green  lattice.  And  he 
had  peopled  all  the  chambers  of  my  house 
with  sad  thoughts  and  black-stoled  memo- 
ries. So,  never  heeding  my  familiar  friend, 
I  sat,  staring  in  the  lire,  and  thinking. 

And  I  thought,  sadly  and  almost  vindic- 
tively, of  the  dreary  years  of  nly  own  early 
boyhood,  with  their  rope  of  sand,  and  the 
mill-wheel  that  had  ground  no  corn.  And 
I  remembered  how  at  times  there  would 
come  to  me  in  my  exile  the  sound  of  my 
brother's  laugh,  and  the  sweeter  music  of 
my  Mother's  voice.  But  I  remembered 
thankfully,  that  through  years  of  monoto- 
nous work  and  rough  usage  I  had  enjoyed 
sound  health,  and  had  had  companions,  with 
whom  I  had  walked,  and  talked,  and 
romped,  and  fought,  cheerily. 

And  I  wondered  wli  ether  I  should  be 
spared  to  see  my  own  child  grow  to  be  a 


292  TINT,   TINT,   TINT. 

merry  and  frank-hearted  little  fellow;  to 
hear  the  music  of  his  ringing  laugh ;  to  see 
his  face  flushed  with  rude  but  healthful 
sport ;  to  hear  of  him  as  beloved  for  many- 
boyish  virtues,  and  reproved,  not  unlov- 
ingly,  for  his  share  of  boyish  faults.  And  I 
longed  to  be  climbing  with  him  the  hill  of 
Difficulty;  and  lightening  the  ascent  for 
him  with  varied  converse  ;  resting  now  and 
then  to  look  down  upon  the  valley,  or  to 
let  him  gather  blue-bells  that  grew  on  the 
hillside. 

And  then  I  thought  of  a  boy,  who  had 
sat  of  late  on  the  last  bench  in  my  class- 
room ;  with  a  timid  and  scared  look  beside 
his  bluff  and  bold  companions ;  who  had 
stood  in  the  noisy  play-ground,  lonely  as 
in  a  wilderness ;  whom  I  had  seen  that 
afternoon  in  his  early  coffin,  with  the  seal 
upon  his  forehead  of  Everlasting  Peace; 
the  peace  that  passeth  all  understanding. 

So  I  determined ;  from  the  recollections 
of  my  own  dreary  boyhood ;  for  the  mild 
reproof  that  once  had  clouded  momently 
very  gentle  eyes  ;  for  the  love  I  bare  my 


TINT,   TINT,   TINT.  293 

own  little  one ;  and  for  the  calm  and  unre- 
buking  face  I  had  seen  that  afternoon ;  that 
I  would  do  as  little  as  possible  in  the  exer- 
cise of  my  stern  duties  to  make  of  life  a 
weariness  to  young  children  ;  and  especially 
to  sucli  as  should  be  backward  in  their 
Latin. 


294  THE  PRESSURE 


XXIV. 

THE   PRESSURE    OF    GENTLENESS. 

A  CLOSE  relation  of  my  own  was  for 
twelve  years  an  officer  in  almost  the  severest 
of  all  continental  services.  In  that  chival- 
ric  arm}^  is  conserved  a  traditional  disci- 
pline, whose  details  would  appal  a  democrat, 
and  the  exactions  of  which  could  only  be  en- 
dured by  an  obedient  and  military  race.  He 
tells  me  that,  in  his  long  experience,  he  only 
met  with  one  Captain,  who  in  dealing  with 
his  company  avowedly  ignored  all  means  of 
physical  coercion.  On  this  Captain's  breast 
were  the  Orders  of  two  kingdoms  and  two 
empires:  after  one  well-fought  day  he  had 
been  voted  by  acclamation  as  a  candidate 
for  the  Order  of  the  Iron  Crown,  which  he 
would  have  obtained  had  he  added  his  own 
signature  to  those  of  all  his  brother  officers ; 
and  yet  so  soft-hearted  was  this   Chevalier 


OF  GENTLENESS.  295 

sans  peur  that  any  slattern  beggar-woman 
could  draw  from  hira  an  ill-spared  florin. 
In  a  village,  where  a  portion  of  the  regiment 
were  once  quartered,  the  good  Cur^,  at  the 
close  of  a  sermon  on  Christian  Character, 
told  his  flock  that,  if  they  wished  to  see 
Christianity  in  action,  they  might  see  it  in 
a  Captain  of  Grenadiers,  who  clothed  their 
poorest  children  with  his  pocket-money, 
and  whose  closest  companion  was  ignorant 
of  his  good  deeds.  This  Captain's  company 
was  noted  as  being  the  best-dressed  and  the 
best-conducted  in  the  regiment.  There 
were  at  Solferino  (and  there  are,  alas !  such 
cases  in  all  engagements)  cases  of  gallant 
but  stern  officers  that  fell  by  a  traitorous 
bullet  from  behind.  There  was  not  one 
man  in  the  company  of  this  Captain  that 
would  not  have  taken  in  his  stead  a  bullet 
aimed  at  him  from  the  front. 

A  year  and  a  half  ago  I  met  in  Yorkshire 
an  invalid  young  sailor.  From  his  smooth 
face,  short  statue,  and  attenuated  form,  I 
should  have  taken  him  for  a  senior  midship- 
man. To  my  complete  astonishment  I 
found  he  was  commander  of  a  Pacific  liner, 


296  THE  PRESSURE 

with  a  numerous  crew  under  his  orders,  and 
in  receipt  of  a  splendid  income.  He  had 
been  third  in  command,  when  the  two  sen- 
iors had  taken  fever,  and  his  gallantry  under 
trying  circumstances  of  all  kinds  had  pro- 
cured his  unusually  early  promotion.  T  dis- 
cussed with  him  the  theory  of  discipline. 
He  considered  physical  chastisement  as  bru- 
tal ;  swearing  as  un-Christian ;  and  hector- 
ing as  unmanly.  "  The  man  who  cannot 
control  himself  is  not  fit  to  command  a 
crew,"  he  said,  tritely  and  truly.  I  looked 
in  wonder  at  this  shrimp  of  a  man,  that  was 
speaking  with  such  calm  confidence.  "  I 
never,"  he  continued, "  raise  my  voice  above 
its  usual  tone  to  enforce  an  order."  He  was 
worn  to  skin  and  bone  by  a  chest  disorder 
of  long  continuance,  Avhich  he  considered 
would  close  his  life  at  no  distant  date.  I 
could  have  pushed  him  over  with  a  rude 
jostle  of  my  elbow.  But  there  was  some- 
thing in  his  face  that  told  you  unmistaka- 
bly he  was  not  the  man  with  whom  to  take 
a  liberty.  He  gave  me  a  remarkable  anec- 
dote of  himself.  His  ship  was  alongside  of 
an  American  liner  in  the  Liverpool  docks. 


OF  GENTLENESS,  297 

The  Yankee  captain  was  dining  with  him, 
and  the  conversation  fell  upon  the  means  of 
maintaining  order  in  a  crew.  The  Yankee 
scouted  all  means  but  the  stick.  He  and  his 
mates  used  on  principle  the  most  brutal 
means  of  coercion.  During  their  argument, 
the  steward  came  to  announce  that  the  Eng- 
lish crew  were  fighting  the  Yankees  on  the 
neighboring  vessel.  The  captains  went  on 
deck,  and  the  Englishman,  slinging  himself 
by  a  rope,  alighted  in  the  midst  of  an  up- 
roarious crowd.  "  Well,  my  men,"  said  he, 
"  so  you  are  making  beasts  of  yourselves, 
and  disgracing  your  captain."  And  the  big 
fellows  slunk  off  without  a  word  to  their 
own  vessel,  and  one  or  two  of  the  ringlead- 
ers were  set  for  an  hour  or  two  to  swab  the 
decks.  But  of  the  quarreling  tars  there  was 
not.  a  man  but  could  have  lifted  his  wee 
captain,  and  dropped  him  overboard  with- 
out an  effort.  I  trust  to  God  he  may  yet  be 
living,  and  may  long  be  spared,  as  a  speci- 
men of  a  quiet,  resolute,  English,  Christian 
Skipper. 

My  chiefest  friend  at  school  was  a  man  of 
widest  mental  culture,  of  even  temper,  and 


298  THE  PRESSURE 

of  sound  judgment.  Among  his  friends  and 
my  own  at  Trinity  I  knew  a  few  men  of  a 
similarly  high  stamp.  I  remember  one  man 
in  particular,  in  whom  the  Scholar  and  the 
Christian  so  curiously  blended,  that  it  would 
be  difficult  to  say  where  his  Latin  ended  and 
his  religion  began.  He  was  a  spiritual  and 
mental  Merman.  But  if  I  were  called  upon 
to  name  the  Aristides  of  my  life-acquain- 
tance, I  should  name  a  man,  whom  I  never 
knew  till  I  had  crossed  the  Tweed.  I  be- 
lieve it  would  be  as  hard  to  warp  a  Carlyle 
into  sentimental  or  religious  cant,  and  a 
prophet-Cumming  into  common-sense  and 
modesty,  as  to  twist  the  nature  of  my  friend 
into  petty  words  or  illiberal  action. 

He  was  once  the  superintendent  of  a 
public  educational  institution.  He  had  been 
present  one  day  in  the  drill-ground,  where 
an  honest  sergeant  with  a  good  deal  of  su- 
perfluous bluster  was  putting  a  little  regi- 
ment through  its  facings.  When  the  boys 
were  dismissed,  the  sergeant  approached 
his  superior,  and  said :  "  Excuse  the  liberty, 
Sir,  but  really,  when  you  are  more  used  to 
boys,  you'll  find  that  you  must  put  more 


OF  GENTLENESS.  299 

pepper  into  what  you  do  and  say."  "  Well," 
said  my  friend,  "  every  man  has  his  own 
way :  for  my  own  part,  I  don't  believe  in 
pepper." 

A  few  weeks  afterwards,  the  Principal 
was  in  his  library,  when  the  sergeant  was 
ushered  in.  "I've  come,  Sir,"  said  the 
latter,  "  to  ask  a  favor.  Those  boys  are  a 
little  troublesome  at  times.  If  you'd  be 
kind  enough  just  to  stand  at  your  drawing- 
room  window  for  a  few  minutes  when  drill 
was  going  on,  it  would  do  a  deal  of  good ; 
if  you'd  only  stand  for  a  few  minutes,  read- 
ing a  newspaper." 

Ah!  worthy  sergeant;  your  pepper  won't 
do  after  all.  No,  friend,  keep  it  for  your 
vegetables,  and  use  it  then  in  moderation. 

I  hold  that  men  may  be  called  of  God  to 
more  offices  than  the  holy  one  of  the  Chris- 
tian ministry.  There  was  an  under-officer 
at  my  old  school,  who  to  me  seemed  always 
to  partake  largely  of  some  of  the  finest  at- 
tributes of  the  gentleman.  He  had  failed 
through  continued  ill-health  in  business  as 
a  bookseller,  and  was  a  well-read  man.  He 
was  uniformly  civil  and  respectful  to  us, 


300  '^^HE  PRESSURE 

senior  scholars;  but,  while  we  could  tip 
and  bribe  others,  we  could  never  venture  on 
the  liberty  of  an  unadorned  surname  witli 
him.  This  man  was  called  to  the  humble 
office  of  maintaining  order  in  the  school- 
yard. So  there  are  men  called  to  command 
men  on  the  field  of  battle,  and  boys  in  the 
school-room.  I  have  met  with  a  school- 
master in  Scotland  who  could  govern  a 
crowd  of  boys  in  one  room,  though  they 
might  be  divided  into  scattered  groups,  and 
engaged  in  varied  work;  and  his  only  im- 
plements of  discipline  were  a  word  or  two 
of  good-natured  banter  or  kindly  encour- 
agement, and  occasionally  a  calm  and  stern 
rebuke.  I  have  been  much  struck  by  the 
expression  of  his  opinion,  that  physical  co- 
ercion cannot  be  dispensed  with  altogether. 
In  defiance,  however,  of  a  kindness,  a  sagac- 
ity, and  a  judgment  that  I  respect,  I  do 
most  firmly  believe  that  the  necessity  for 
physical  chastisement  rests  mainly  upon 
two  blemishes  in  our  ordinary  school  sa^s- 
tem :  the  mechanical  nature  of  our  routine 
of  work ;  and  the  crowding  of  our  class- 
rooms.    In  the  latter  respect  we  are  more 


OF   GENTLENESS.  301 

at  fault  than  our  English  brethren  ;  in  the 
former  we  are  far  less  sinning.  In  the  teach- 
ing of  our  elementary  classes  we  employ  far 
more  spirit,  and  far  less  wood ;  and  I  wish 
I  could  add,  no  leather.  There  is  less  of  a 
gulf  between  pupil  and  master.  The  se- 
verest means  of  physical  chastisement  at 
the  disposal  of  the  latter  is  almost  innocu- 
ous. But  mild  as  our  implement  may  be 
from  the  point  of  view  of  physical  pain  in- 
flicted, its  employment  is  of  necessity  asso- 
ciated with  some  degree  of  odium,  and  a 
more  formidable  amount  of  ridicule.  I  am 
convinced  that  many  children  imagine  that 
we,  schoolmasters,  were  as  naturally  born 
with  tawse,  as  foxes  with  tails.  Did  you 
ever  see  children  in  a  nursery  play  at 
school?  The  rule  seems  to  be  for  the  elder 
brother  to  play  our  part ;  and  that  part  is 
limited  to  the  fun  or  business  of  flogging 
all  his  little  sisters. 

We  have  gone  a  great  way  already  in 
Scotland  in  the  way  of  civilized  teaching, 
in  forbearing  to  use  an  instrument  of  acute 
pain  and  an  instrument  of  indecent  brutal- 
ity.  Let  us  make  a  further  advance,  and  if 


302  THE  PRESSURE 

we  can  invent  some  intellectual  and  moral 
substitute  for  our  ridiculous  scourges,  let 
us  send  the  latter  in  bundles  to  the  public 
schools  of  England,  to  be  there  adopted 
when  their  system  is  suflBciently  ripened  by 
a  few  extra  centuries  of  Christianity.  Let 
us  close  their  scholastic  nakedness  with 
the  last  rags  of  our  barbarism.  Our  boys 
will  be  none  the  less  manly  and  respectful. 
Flogging  can  never  instil  courage  into  a 
child,  but  it  has  helped  to  transform  many 
an  one  into  a  sneak.  And  sneakishness  is 
a  vice  more  hard  to  eradicate  than  obdu- 
racy. So  far  from  curing  an  ill-conditioned 
boy  of  rude  and  vulgar  ways,  it  is  calculated 
rather  to  render  inveterate  in  him  a  dis- 
taste for  study,  and  a  solid  hatred  of  our 
craft. 

Let  us  be  less  careful  of  the  mere  number 
of  our  classes,  and  more  careful  of  their  in- 
tellectual culture.  Let  us  care  more  for 
what  we  think  of  ourselves,  than  what  the 
public  think  of  us.  The  respect  of  others 
follows  close  upon  self  respect.  Let  us  not 
care  to  be  called  of  men,  MabM,  Rahhi,  Let 
us  be  content  with  classes  of  limited  num- 


OF  GENTLENESS.  303 

bers,  every  member  of  which  can  keep  pace 
with  a  properly-advancing  curriculum.  Let 
us  aim  at  a  broad  and  invigoratmg  culture, 
not  a  narrow  and  pedantic  one  ;  let  us  ig- 
nore examinations  of  College  or  Civil  ser- 
vice, and  aim  only  at  the  great  and  search- 
ing- examination  of  actual  life.  Let  our  aims 
be  high  and  generous,  irrespective  of  the 
exactions  of  unreasoning  parents  and  well- 
meaning  but  unqualified  intermeddlers ; 
let  our  means  of  coercion  be  dignified,  in 
spite  of  the  trials  to  which  our  tempers  may 
be  exposed.  Let  us  endeavor  to  make  our 
pupils  love  their  work  without  fearing  us. 
They  may  hve  —  God  knows — to  love  us. 
Whether  they  ever  love  us  or  not  perhaps 
matters  but  little,  if  we  do  our  work  single- 
heartedly.  The  mens  eonseia  recti  is  of  itself 
no  mean  reward.  I  am,  perhaps,  an  enthu- 
siast ;  but  I  have  an  idea,  that,  ere  a  gener- 
ation is  passed  away,  the  last  sound  of  the 
last  tawse  will  be  heard  in  the  leading  gram- 
mar-schools of  Scotland.  Her  scholars  will 
be  none  the  worse  taught,  and  her  school- 
masters none  the  less  respected,  when  in- 
struction has  been  made  less  rugged  in  her 


30^  THE  PRESSURE 

aspect,  and  discipline  is  maintained  by  the 
more  than  hydraulic  pressure  of  a  persistent 
and  continuous  gentleness. 

And,  O  brother  schoolmaster,  remember 
evermore  the  exceeding  dignity  of  our  call- 
ing. It  is  not  the  holiest  of  all  callings ; 
but  it  runs  near  and  parallel  to  the  holiest. 
The  lawyer's  wits  are  sharpened,  and  his 
moral  sense  not  seldom  blunted,  by  a  life- 
long familiarity  with  ignorance,  chicanery, 
and  crime.  The  physician,  in  the  exercise 
of  a  more  beneficent  craft,  is  saddened  con- 
tinually by  the  spectacle  of  human  weak- 
ness and  human  pain.  We  have  usually  to 
deal  with  fresh  and  unpolluted  natures.  A 
noble  calling,  but  a  perilous.  We  are  dress- 
ers in  a  moral  and  mental  vineyard.  We  are 
undershepherds  of  the  Lord's  little  ones ; 
and  our  business  it  is  to  lead  them  into 
green  pastures,  by  the  sides  of  refreshing 
streams.  Let  us  into  our  linguistic  lessons 
introduce  cunningly  and  imperceptibly  all 
kinds  of  amusing  stories ;  stories  of  the  real 
kings  of  earth,  that  have  reigned  in  secret, 
crownless  and  unsceptred ;  leaving  the  vain 
show  of  power  to  gilded  toy-kings  and  make- 


OF  GENTLENESS.  805 

believe  statesmen ;  of  the  Angels  that  have 
walked  the  earth  in  the  guise  of  holy  men 
and  holier  women ;  of  the  Seraph-singers, 
whose  music  will  be  echoing  for  ever ;  of 
the  Cherubim  of  power,  that  with  the 
mighty  wind  of  conviction  and  enthusiasm 
have  winnowed  the  air  of  pestilence  and 
superstition. 

Yes,  Friend,  throw  a  higher  poetry  than 
all  this  into  your  linguistic  work ;  the  poe- 
try of  pure  and  holy  motive.  Then,  in  the 
coming  days,  when  you  are  fast  asleep  un- 
der the  green  grass,  they  will  not  speak 
lightly  of  you  over  their  fruit  and  wine, 
mimicking  your  accent,  and  retailing  dull, 
insipid  boy-pleasantries.  Enlightened  by 
the  experience  of  fatherhood,  they  will  see 
with  a  clear  remembrance  your  firmness  in 
dealing  with  their  moral  faults,  your  pa- 
tience in  dealing  with  their  intellectual 
weakness.  And,  calling  to  mind  the  old 
schoolroom,  they  will  think  :  "  Ah !  it  was 
good  for  us  to  be  there.  For,  unknown  to 
us,  were  made  therein  three  tabernacles; 
one  for  us,  and  one  for  our  schoolmaster, 
and  one  for  Him  that  is  the  Friend  of  all 


306        PRESSURE  OF  GENTLENESS. 

children,   and  the   Master  of  all   school- 
masters." 

Ah!  believe  me,  brother  mine,  where  two 
or  three  children  are  met  together,  unless 
He,  who  is  the  Spirit  of  gentleness,  be  in 
the  midst  of  them,  then  our  Latin  is  but 
sounding  brass,  and  our  Greek  a  tinkling 
cymbal. 


SCHOLA  IN  NUBIBUS.  307 


XXV. 


SCHOLA   IN   NUBIBUS. 


A  LEARNED  botanist  informs  us  that  no 
flower  is  perfect.  I  am  sorry  to  think  he 
should  be  able  to  prove  so  saddening  an 
assertion.  What  a  world  is  this  of  ours,  in 
which  our  very  symbols  of  purity  are  im- 
pure ;  of  perfection,  imperfect !  Will  chem- 
istry detect  a  flaw  in  elemental  diamond  ? 

Poor  Eve,  as  she  went  weeping  out  of 
Eden,  plucked  a  last  nosegay;  but  every 
flower  she  touched  became  infected  with  a 
petal-plague ;  and  the  malady  has  gone 
spreading  through  all  the  vegetable  king- 
dom from  that  sad  day  to  this.  Each  plant 
has  now  its  special  part  a-wanting.  No 
leafy  thing  can  jeer  at  its  green  brother. 
All  come  short  of  the  perfect  type  of  plant- 
hood.  A  specimen,  complete  in  all  its  parts, 
may  be  sketched  on   paper  to  serve  as  a 


308  SCIIOLA  IN  NUBIBUS. 

criterion  of  the  special  deficiencies  of  par- 
ticulars: but  a  perfect  plant  or  a  perfect 
flower  can  no  more  be  found  in  Nature, 
than  in  the  world  a  man  utterly  unselfish, 
or  a  woman  utterly  devoid  of  goodness. 

Naturalists  give  an  account  equally  hu- 
miliating of  the  existing  animal  creation. 
There  appears  to  have  been  a  physical  Fall 
of  man  and  beast.  It  must  have  been  a 
curious  sort  of  Zoological  Garden  where  all 
w^ere  corporeally  perfect.  But  how  strange 
it  is  that  all  living  creatures,  biped  or  quad- 
ruped, should  be  foxes  that  have  lost  their 
tails?  Why  should  we  upbraid  the  mole 
with  blindness,  or  the  sloth  with  inactivity  ? 
A  cat  may  point  derisively  to  our  now  un- 
flexile  ears ;  a  marmoset  to  our  now  unpre- 
hensile  toes;  a  baboon  may  grin  at  our 
miserably  poor,  unswingable  suggestions 
of  abortive  tails. 

Man  then  appears  to  have  had  two  Falls ; 
or,  perhaps,  more  correctly  speaking,  a 
spiritual  Fall,  and  a  physical  Rise.  There 
is  an  ebb  and  flow  in  everything.  Nature 
is  for  ever  playing  a  simple,  a  monotonous, 
but  a  terrible  game.  Odd  and  even,  Heads 


SCIIOLA  IN  NUBIBUS.  809 

and  Tails.  See-saw,  Marjory  Daw.  Here  we 
go  up,  up,  up  ;  and  here  we  go  down,  down, 
down.  If  on  the  street  a  silver  coin  I  find. 
Forthwith  my  elbow  through  a  window 
goes :  If  Fortune  on  my  right  smile  sweet 
and  kind.  Fate  on  the  left  comes  treading 
on  my  toes.  And  so  divines  inform  us 
that  spiritually  we  have  been  degenerat- 
ing for  six  thousand  years ;  and  naturalists 
comfort  us  with  the  assurance  that  we  have 
the  while  been  physically  improving.  On 
the  whole,  then,  we  have  been  losers.  By 
the  time  we  are  as  bad  as  Beelzebub,  we 
shall  be  as  beautiful  as  Apollo.  And  Beel- 
zebub and  Apollo  are  philologically  one. 
— What  a  wonderful  study  is  Philology  I 

It  was  after  indulging  in  a  train  of  some 
such  desultory  reflections,  and  observing 
the  necessity  of  demonstrating  actual  im- 
perfections by  reference  to  a  non-existent 
type,  that  I  was  led,  about  the  middle  of 
the  next  century,  —  in  the  spirit,  or  the 
clouds  of  my  tobacco-pipe, — to  pay  a  visit 
to  an  olim  friend,  whose  name  is  carved  by 
the  side  of  my  own  on  the  upper  bench  of 
Old  St.  Edwards. 


310  SCHOLA  IN  NUBIBUS, 

He  now  held  a  subordinate  mastership  in 
a  public  school,  that  was  pleasantly  situated 
at  the  foot  of  the  Grampians.  The  build- 
ings were  stately,  and  the  grounds  charm- 
ing. The  playground  commanded  a  not 
very  distant  view  of  noble,  rugged  moun- 
tains: and  a  short  walk  brought  you  to  the 
banks  of  a  romantic  trouting-stream.  The 
pupils  were  some  hundred  and  fifty  in  num- 
ber and  belonged  chiefly  to  the  class  of  gen- 
try, or  to  the  upper  middle-class  of  society. 
The  staff  of  masters  was  selected  from  the 
most  distinguished  scholars  and  mathema- 
ticians of  our  Universities ;  and  the  curri- 
culum of  study  included  English,  French, 
Italian,  German,  Latin,  Greek,  and  Mathe- 
matics. The  latter  branch  extended  over 
Euclid,  Algebra,  Trigonometry,  and  the 
Conic  Sections.  The  pupils  entered  usually 
at  the  age  of  nine,  and  remained  for  a  term 
of  seven  years.  A  few,  who  were  destined 
for  the  learned  professions,  stayed  some- 
times for  an  extra  year,  or  even  longer,  by 
way  of  preparation  for  the  highest  honors 
of  our  Universities. 

The  Principal  of  the  place  was  a  Clergy- 


SCHOLA  IN  NUBIBUS.  311 

man  or  Minister :  tlie  religious  and  moral 
training  of  the  boys  was  under  his  sole 
charge.  Consequently  on  Sundays  he  was 
undisputed  master  of  all  arrangements ;  and 
on  week-days  he  presided  in  chapel,  morn- 
ing and  evening.  His  tuition  was  confined 
to  Biblical  and  Profane  History,  in  which 
subjects  he  delivered  two  prelections  daily 
to  the  classes  in  turn,  in  such  a  way  that 
each  class  attended  one  Biblical  prelection, 
and  two  prelections  on  Profane  History, 
every  week.  His  classes  were  the  favorite 
ones,  I  was  told ;  and  no  wonder ;  for  the 
Principal  had  learning  and  tact  sufBcient 
to  make  his  lectures  wonderfully  interest- 
ing, and  the  sacredness  of  his  calling  ex- 
empted him  from  the  necessity  of  employing 
punishment  of  any  kind  as  a  stimulant  or 
preventive. 

The  pupils  of  the  first  year  were  engaged 
in  the  close  and  analytic  study  of  their  o  wii. 
language,  and  in  Writing  and  Arithmetic. 
French  was  taught  them  upon  a  conversa- 
tional rather  than  a  philological  or  gram- 
matical method.  During  the  second  year 
Italian  was  thrown  in  on  the  same  method. 


312  SCHOLA  IN  NUBIBUS. 

and  continued  with  the  former  studies  to 
the  close  of  the  session. 

The  third  year  commenced  with  Latin, 
and  this  with  the  previous  branches  carried 
the  jjupils  to  the*  end  of  their  fourth  year. 

German  w^as  now  introduced;  but  the 
modern  tongues  were  taught  almost  entirely 
as  spoken  languages ;  and,  as  no  very  exten- 
sive preparation  was  required  for  them  out 
of  class,  these  studies  did  not  weigh  very 
heavily  upon  the  young  pupils.  Latin 
was  commenced  upon  the  vivd  voce  princi- 
ple, but  became  gradually  more  and  more 
analytic,  and  was  made  the  chief  instrument 
for  inculcating  the  philosophy  of  language. 
As  every  Classical  Master  was  more  or 
less  conversant  with  the  modern  tongues, 
ample  use  was  made  of  the  idioms  of  these 
latter  in  illustrating  the  idioms  of  an  ancient 
language. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  sixth  year 
a  select  few,  generally  boys  of  superior 
talents,  began  the  study  of  Greek ;  and  from 
their  previous  linguistic  training  it  was 
marvellous  with  what  rapidity  they  pro- 
gressed in  the  study  of  this  intricate  tongue. 


SCIIOLA  IN  NUBIBUS.  313 

For  a  time  the  vivd  voce  method  was  adhered 
to,  and  it  was  really  refreshing  to  hear  the 
natural  music  of  the  spoken  Greek.  The 
other  pupils,  who  were  not  intended  for  the 
learned  professions,  continued  their  former 
studies,  which  carried  them  gradually  into 
wide  and  interesting  fields  of  History,  Ora- 
tory, Poetry,  and  Philosophy. 

The  plan  of  study,  here  drawn  out,  was 
not  rigidly  adhered  to  in  all  cases.  There 
were  several  pupils,  who,  from  reasons  of 
health  or  comparative  mental  deficiency, 
were  allowed  to  drop  one  or  more  of  the 
Modern  languages ;  and  some,  after  a  while, 
were  exempted  from  the  study  of  Latin. 

The  study  of  Geometry  was  commenced 
in  the  fourth  year ;  but,  after  a  fair  trial, 
pupils  were  sent  back  to  practical  arithme- 
tic who  evinced  no  capacity  for  abstract 
mathematical  studies;  and  those  who 
showed  a  marked  and  special  turn  for  the 
latter  were  allowed  exemptions  from  many 
other  branches,  to  admit  of  their  giving  full 
attention  to  their  favorite  pursuits.  In- 
deed, there  were  one  or  two  instances  of 
senior  pupils,  of  about  eighteen  years  of  age, 


314  SCIIOLA  IN  NUBIBUS. 

who  had  stayed  beyond  the  usual  term,  and 
were  engaged  in  the  study  of  the  Calculi. 

I  was  especially  pleased  with  the  chapel 
service  on  Sundays,  which  was  judiciously 
short  and  reasonably  long.  The  singing  of 
the  hymns  and  anthems  was  exquisite.  I 
was  informed  that,  with  the  exception  of 
a  few  boys  who  were  physically  unable  to 
whistle  a  tune,  the  pupils  generally  could 
read  simple  music  with  ease;  and  that 
several  of  them  could  play  on  one  or  two  mu- 
sical instruments  with  considerable  effect. 
A  concert  was  given  at  the  close  of  my 
visit,  and  at  my  special  request,  in  the  great 
hall;  where  several  glees  and  madrigals 
were  admirably  sung,  in  some  of  which  one 
of  the  masters  took  a  prominent  part ;  and 
a  quartette  was  played  more  than  passably 
by  three  of  the  pupils  and  the  same  master, 
who  was  an  excellent  player,  it  appeared, 
on  the  pianoforte  and  organ. 

I  must  confess,  I  was  a  little  amused  to 
find  that  even  dancing  was  not  entirely  lost 
sight  of;  but  the  lessons  in  this  department 
were  entirely  optional. 

The  Principal  and  all  the  masters  break- 


SCHOLA  IN  NUBIBUS.  315 

fasted  and  dined  with  the  boys  in  the  great 
hall;  and  once  a  month  the  dinner-table 
was  honored  with  the  presence  of  their 
wives,  and  lady-visitors  from  the  neighbor- 
hood. These  days  were,  of  course,  cretati ; 
and  every  one  was  bound  to  appear  in  his 
best  clothes  and  his  best  manners ;  and 
very  often  on  these  occasions  the  evening 
was  spent  in  music  or  theatricals,  or  both, 
in  the  great  hall. 

I  went  round  the  dormitories,  and  found 
that  each  boy  had  a  separate^  well-ventilated 
room.  On  the  table  of  each  room  was  a 
New  Testament ;  but  whether  it  was  much 
read  in  each  instance,  I  am  of  course  unable 
to  state ;  at  all  events,  if  it  was  ever  read 
in  any  one  instance,  it  would  be  read  spon- 
taneously^ and  not  from  the  motives  of 
either  fear  or  hypocrisy. 

The  Sunday  arrangements  struck  me  as 
being  remarkable  for  the  extreme,  and,  to 
my  mind,  excessive  liberality  they  evinced 
in  the  Principal;  who  was,  as  I  have  stated, 
a  minister  of  the  gospel.  The  boys  attended 
service  twice  ;  once  in  the  morning  and 
once  in  the  evening.  In  the  afternoon  they 


316  SCHOLA  IN  NUBIDUS, 

were  allowed  to  walk  in  the  grounds ;  under 
the  cloisters  in  wet  weather;  or  to  read 
quietly  in  the  public  library.  There  was  a 
considerable  range  of  book-shelves  from 
which  books  might  be  selected ;  and  these 
books  were  by  no  means  confined  to  re- 
ligious subjects.  I  was,  although  a  layman, 
startled,  and  indeed  a  little  shocked,  to  find 
that  the  Principal  had  not  excluded  from 
the  Sunday  shelves  many  books  of  profane 
travels,  and  many  of  the  works  of  Johnson, 
Goldsmith,  Washington  Irving,  and  a  ter- 
rible phalanx  of  secular  poets,  such  as  Cow- 
per.  Gray,  Southey,  Wordsworth,  and  Ten- 
nyson. However,  as  the  reverend  Principal 
was  a  man  of  undoubted  piety,  of  very  ex- 
tensive learning,  and  capable  of  defending 
his  views  with  sound  logic  and  good-hu- 
mored banter,  I  kept  my  opinions  to  myself; 
but  I  resolved  in  my  own  mind,  that  if  ever 
I  sent  a  son  or  nephew  to  this  school,  I 
should  previously  stipulate  that  on  Sundays 
his  readings  should  be  confined  entirely  to 
useful  sermons  and  entertaining  tracts. 

I  was  so  charmed  with  all  I  saw  in  my 
short  visit  to  this  beautiful  valley,  that  at 


SCHOLA  IN  NUBIBUS.  317 

times  I  thought  I  was  enacting  the  part  of 
Rasselas.  One  morning,  however,  in  my 
rambles  I  stumbled,  in  a  sequestered  place, 
upon  a  knot  of  little  fellows  who  were  in 
a  great  state  of  excitement,  and  somewhat 
annoyed,  apparently,  at  my  fortuitous  in- 
terference. In  a  moment  I  perceived  the 
cause  of  the  meeting.  There  had  been  a 
fight.  One  little  fellow  was  being  led  away, 
victorious,'  with  a  bloody  nose;  and  an- 
other, with  a  black  eye,  was  being  com- 
forted under  defeat.  I  was  at  once  bound 
over  to  secrecy.  However,  the  combat  was 
discovered,  all  through  the  unfortunate 
black  eye,  that  very  evening  b}^  the  Prin- 
cipal, who  certainly  did  not  visit  the  matter 
very  severely  upon  the  chief  delinquents. 
"The  fact  is,"  said  he  to  me  in  private,  "the 
boys  were  pretty  much  of  a  size,  and  there 
was  a  little  bad  blood  between  them,  which 
this  fight  has  let  in  a  wholesome  way.  I 
gave  them  an  imposition,  and  some  words  of 
kindly  counsel ;  but  really,  in  my  heart,  I 
was  not  very  angry ;  for  they  are  both  capital 
lads,  and  will  now  be  the  fastest  of  friends." 
In  the  case  of  bullying,  however,  I  was  told 


318  SCHOLA  IN  NUBIBUS, 

that  the  Principal  was  exceedingly  severe. 
One  case  of  a  very  aggravated  description 
had  come  before  him  two  years  previously, 
and  he  had  had  recourse  to  a  singular  mode 
of  jury-trial.  A  council  was  held  of  all  the 
Masters  and  the  Captain  of  each  year:  the 
vote  of  each  individual,  man  or  boy,  being 
of  one  value.  The  Principal,  who  had  no 
vote,  stated  the  case  fully,  and  the  culprit 
was  allowed  to  make  his  defence  in  words 
or  in  writing,  personally  or  by  proxy.  In 
this  instance  the  culprit  was  expelled,  al- 
though one  vote  in  four  would  have  ex- 
empted him  from  that  extreme  penalty. 

I  was  particularly  struck  with  one  feature 
of  this  Institution.  I  was  speaking  to  the 
Principal  of  the  open  Scholarships,  and 
Medals,  and  Fellowships  at  our  great  Uni- 
versities, and  the  prizes  in  the  various  de- 
partments of  our  Civil  Service  that  had 
been  thrown  open  to  public  competition ; 
and  I  inquired  if  any  special  arrangements 
were  meant  to  qualify — I  meant  cram^  but 
I  was  afraid  to  use  the  word  —  to  qualify 
pupils  for  those  special  ends.  The  Principal 
answered  me  half-gravely,  half-smilingly  : 


SCIIOLA  IN  NUBIIiUS,  819 

''  When  I  preach  to  my  little  fellows  on 
Sundays,  or  lecture  to  them  on  week-days, 
I  endeavor  continually  to  bring  before 
them  the  example  of  One,  who  went  about 
doing  good,  simply  because  goodness  was 
good.  And  from  early  and  later  Christian 
history,  and  from  profane  history  as  well,  I 
can  show  them  instances  of  men,  who 
throughout  laborious  lives  preferred  virtue 
to  profit,  goodness  to  glitter.  To  my  col- 
leagues is  entrusted  the  intellectual  edu- 
cation of  my  charges.  They  would  be 
counteracting  much  of  my  teaching,  if  they 
were  continually  to  be  placing  before  their 
pupils  sordid  motives  of  gain,  or  even  the 
less  ignoble  but  still  unholy  motives  of  am- 
bition. I  should  prefer  a  boy  to  be  led  on 
to  work,  merely  because  work  was  his  duty ; 
and  I  should  wish  a  teacher  to  do  his  ut- 
most to  make  that  duty  a  pleasure.  It  is 
the  business  of  my  colleagues  to  give  a 
general  and  broad  intellectual  training  to 
their  pupils,  that  the  latter  may  be  fitted, 
some  for  professional  life  hereafter,  and  all 
for  the  position  of  gentlemen :  should  prizes 
fall   in   their  way,  they  will  be  welcome. 


320  SCHOLA  IN  NUBIBUS. 

although  they  were  never  our  special  ends 
in  view.  My  duty  is  to  prepare  my  boys, 
by  my  poor  teaching  and  my  poorer  example, 
for  the  fulfilment  in  after  life  of  simple  so- 
cial and  Christian  duties.  There  is  only 
one  prize  for  which  my  teaching  prepares 
boys  or  men :  it  is  a  very  high  prize,  and 
very  hard  in  the  gaining.  And  whether  or 
no  that  prize  is  ever  gained,  I  am  unable  to 
tell.  For  I  stand  upon  my  little  Pisgah,  and 
am  forbidden  to  follow  in  haste.  1  can  only 
state  this  for  my  colleagues  and  myself, 
that,  while  we  should  be  glad  enough  to  hear 
of  particular  instances  where  brilliant  suc- 
cess at  our  Universities  or  in  the  busy  world 
were  attained  by  our  pupils,  we  should  be 
far  more  thankful  to  find  that  they  were 
generally  esteemed  in  after  life  as  intelli- 
gent gentlemen  and  good  Christians." 

Towards  the  close  of  my  visit,  I  was  pres- 
ent one  afternoon  in  the  private  library  of 
the  Principal,  when  a  small  posse  of  senior 
pupils  came  to  bid  him  farewell  before 
leaving  for  the  University.  After  a  long 
and  pleasant  and  familiar  conversation,  the 
Principal  rose,  and,  standing  in  front  of  the 


SCHOLA  IN  NUB  IB  US.  321 

fireplace,  addressed  his  small  but  attentive 
audience  to  the  following  effect.  As  I 
write  from  memory,  I  give  the  purport  only 
of  his  words. 

"  I  am  now  addressing  you.  Boys,  for  the 
last  time  ex  catherdrd.  Listen  then  to  a  few 
words  of  advice,  and  give  them  hereafter 
some  little  heed.  On  entering  the  Univer- 
sity, do  not  follow  the  received  dogma,  that 
a  Freshman  is  traditionally  bound  to  ex- 
travagance or  folly.  Be  in  no  hurry  to  form 
acquaintances.  Sympathetic  friendships 
will  cluster  round  you  in  due  time.  Asso- 
ciate, by  preference,  with  those  of  your  own 
rank,  or  with  those  a  little  above  it.  Neither 
seek  nor  avoid  the  company  of  the  very 
exalted;  but  never  associate  with  men 
beneath  you  in  social  position,  however 
wealthy,  affable,  or  good  tempered  they 
may  be.  Of  course,  if  a  man  be  possessed 
of  surpassing  abilities  or  unusual  force  of 
character,  in  his  case  social  distinctions 
are  annihilated. 

"  Read  with  a  view  to  Final  Honors  only, 
without  swerving  aside  to  win  special  prizes 
or  scholarships.    Should  these  latter  fall 


322  SCHOLA  IN  NUBIBUS. 

naturally  in  your  way,  you  can  try  for  them 
without  harm.  In  the  perusal  of  classic 
authors  observe  closely  all  mannerisms,  and 
imitate  none ;  though  to  do  so  would  give 
you  extra  marks  in  an  Examination.  In 
translating  an  ancient  writer  never  strain 
an  idiom  of  your  own  tongue  for  the  purpose 
of  showing  the  accuracy  of  your  scholarship. 
The  idea  is  incorrect  that  pure  scholarship 
of  necessity  entails  a  corruption  of  native 
taste.  The  idea  was  at  one  time  generally 
entertained ;  and  has  now,  I  regret  to  state, 
many  learned  supporters,  whose  hybrid 
English  should  be  a  warning  to  young 
scholars. 

"  In  your  College  lecture-room  listen  with 
respectful  attention  to  what  is  said ;  but 
abstain  from  taking  notes.  Half  of  what 
you  hear  were  better  forgotten ;  with  much 
of  the  remainder  you  will  probably  disagree  : 
what  residue  is  worth  remembering  will  be 
remembered  for  its  singularity. 

"Your  chronology  is  more  favorable 
than  my  own.  There  are  three  public 
Professors  now  at  Oxford,  whose  catholic 
and  unpedantic  lectures  are  replete  with 


SCHOLA  IN  NUBIBUS.  323 

interest  and  instruction ;  their  united  efforts 
have  thrown  a  new  vitality  into  the  old  dry 
Academic)  teaching.  Cambridge  can  boast 
of  no  genial  and  wise  philosopher  that  can 
render  tlie  study  of  Greek  a  study  of  mor^ 
than  verbal  subtlety,  like  the  Friend  of 
youth  at  Balliol:  no  Cantab  Latinist  can 
compete  in  combined  learning  and  useful- 
ness with  Mr.  Conington ;  though  a  parallel 
to  Mr.  Arnold  in  poetry  and  enthusiasm 
may  be  found  in  a  Cambridge  Professor  of 
History.  This  superiorit}^  of  Oxford  in  pro- 
fessorial teaching  wonld  weigh  more  heavily 
with  me  than  even  her  present,  but  I  trust 
only  temporary,  superiority  in  boat-racing. 
Had  I  ten  sons,  I  should  send  them  all  to 
Oxford,  under  present  circumstances.  At 
Triidty,  Cambridge,  an  advanced  student 
may  now  attend  not  without  profit  a  classi- 
cal lecture  room.  In  my  own  day,  at  ,this 
latter  University,  such  a  student  might  at- 
tend for  a  year  the  classical  lectures  of  a  Col- 
lege Tutor  or  an  University  Professor  with- 
out one  sentence  falling  from  the  lips  of 
either  that  was  worth  picking  up,  except 
for  the  purpose  of  throwing  out  of  window. 


324  SCHOLA  IN  NUBIBUS. 

"  Use  a  Dictionary  as  seldom  as  possible, 
a  Grammar,  never ;  an  annotated  edition  of 
a  classic  only  where  an  author  does  not  ex- 
plain himself  by  himself,  or  is  not  illustrated 
by  cotemporary  writers.  I  would  caution 
you  in  particular  against  the  study  of 
German  writings  on  classical  subjects.  In 
the  notes  of  Porson  and  Elmsley  you  taste 
the  pure  and  delicate  aroma  of  classical 
learning :  in  the  exhaustive  Excursuses  of 
Hermann  and  Heyne  you  have  the  fibre 
boiled  down  with  the  leaf:  in  modern  Eng- 
lish critics  you  have  the  over-boiled  mix- 
ture of  the  Germans  re-boiled.  The  lon- 
gevity of  the  patriarchal  days  is  passed 
for  ever ;  otherwise,  a  hoary  youth  might 
amuse  his  fiftieth  decennium  with  plodding 
through  the  learned  volumes  that  have  very 
nearly  made  Horace  dull. 

"  Continue  your  reading  of  modern  lan- 
guages, as  a  wholesome  alterative  in  the 
midst  of  classical  and  scientific  studies.  Do 
not  avoid  the  society  of  ladies.  To  pass 
an  evening  with  a  high-bred,  accomplished, 
and  intellectual  Lady  is  for  mental  improve- 
ment equivalent  to  the  perusal  of  two  books 


SCHOLA  IN  NUBIBUS.  325 

of  the  ^neid,  or  of  one  Greek  Play.  Travel 
abroad  when  you  have  the  opportunity: 
obtain  what  introductions  you  can  to  foreign 
men  of  letters ;  seek  admission  to  the  stu- 
dios of  Artists,  and  the  rooms  of  Musicians; 
and  perfect  your  accent  of  each  tongue  in 
these  best  of  all  schools,  not  neglecting  the 
Caf^  and  the  Theatre. 

"  In  dress  follow  fashion  at  a  short  dis- 
tance, so  as  never  to  be  quite  in  it,  or  quite 
out  of  it.  In  everything  avoid  singularity. 
Guard  against  prejudices  or  superstitions 
of  College  and  Ujiiversity.  There  is  more 
wisdom  without  the  walls  of  either  than 
within  them.  Let  there  be  nothing  about 
you  to  designate  your  School,  College,  Uni- 
versity, nationality,  or  religious  denomina- 
tion. 

"  Never  mention  my  name  except  in  an- 
swer to  a  question;  and  in  your  festive 
meetings  forget  me  altogether.  An  eulogy 
spoken  on  such  occasions  is  tedious  to  the 
hearer,  and  no  compliment  to  the  subject. 

"  Be  slow  in  forming  your  opinion  of 
others ;  and  slower  in  expressing  it.  Use  a 
superlative  word  as  seldom  as  possible  in 


326  S  CEO  LA  IN  NUBIBUS, 

conversation.  In  speech  or  writing  aim  at 
perspicuity  rather  than  at  wit.  He  who 
speaks  to  be  understood  is  thinking  of  his 
hearer ;  he  who  studies  his  e  xpressions  is 
thinking  of  himself ;  and  a  brilliant  talker 
is  seldom  a  polite  one.  Never  attempt  an 
epigram  in  conversation,  until  you  have  seen 
more  of  men  and  manners.  The  epigram- 
matic sharpness  of  a  young  man  is  but  the 
condensation  of  sciolism.  Oracular  brevity 
is  the  prerogative  of  age  and  experience. 

"Never  canvass  your  own  characters,  even 
in  confidential  converse  with  an  intimate 
friend.  He  who  touches  on  a  good  quality 
of  his  own  is  weakening  what  he  touches. 
But  while  self-praise  enfeebles,  self-dispar- 
agement emasculates.  Repentance  of  the 
heart  is  silent,  even  in  the  recesses  of  the 
closet:  it  is  subtler  than  any  gas  or  ether, 
and  is  sure  to  escape  through  open  lips,  or 
to  evaporate  in  words.  Besides,  he  who 
bemoans  a  weakness  to  a  neighbor  is  too 
often  preparing  himself  to  give  way  to  it, 
and  repenting  by  anticipation. 

"If  you  are  in  any  temporary  distress, 
pecuniary  or  otherwise,  apply  frankly  to 


SCHOLA  IN  NUBIBUS,  327 

your  fathers  or  to  myself.  If  in  spiritual 
trouble,  I  would  gladly  give  you  help,  if 
help  were  in  my  power  to  give ;  but  I  would 
counsel  you  to  seek  help  from  the  Father 
of  us  all,  and  from  Him  alone. 

"  Respect  authority,  but  never  fear  it ; 
and  respect  yourselves  more  than  all  author- 
ity. Be  chivalrous  to  all  women  of  all  ranks 
for  the  sake  of  your  mothers  or  their  mem- 
ories. Be  religious  in  such  a  way  that  no 
one  may  suspect  you  of  being  so,  or  take  a 
liberty  with  sacred  subjects  in  your  pres- 
ence as  though  you  were  the  opposite." 

It  was  with  most  unaffected  regret  that  I 
bade  good-bye  at  last  to  my  friend,  his 
colleagues,  and  their  admirable  Principal. 
I  confess  I  do  not  even  yet  fully  under- 
stand the  character  of  the  latter.  For,  while 
there  are  phases  in  it  that  seem  half-apos- 
tolic, there  are  other  phases  that  bespeak 
the  man  of  the  world.  At  my  departure, 
with  a  smile  he  presented  me  with  a  cigar- 
case  filled  with  choice  cigars;  which  cir- 
cumstance I  considered,  and  consider  still, 
as  remarkably  eccentric  on  his  part;  for, 
although  I  smoked  occasionally  of  an  even- 


328  SCHOLA  IN  NUBIBUS. 

ing  in  his  library,  I  know  for  certain  that 
he  has  not  smoked  a  cigar  for  years. 

And  so,  Reader,  ended,  as  it  began,  my 
pleasant  visit  to  the  Schola  in  Nuhihus  ; 
appropriately;  in  smoke.  Which  thing  is 
an  allegory. 


UNIVERSITY   OP   CALIFORNIA 
LIBRARY 


Due  two  weeks  after  date. 


H  isaf ' 


JUN  2  8 1983 


30»n-7,'12 


YB  05498 


/ 


^C/cTDS. 


^//f 


